One Night With Tommo--A One Direction story
by seaecho
Summary: When Tawny wins a drawing for a date with Louis she ends up getting more than she bargained for. References to Larry Stylinson, some language, sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

Tawny was rushing this morning, having overslept by fifteen minutes. She grabbed her purse, slipped it over her shoulder, slurped hot coffee from her thermos and ran a brush through her blond hair on the run, and was nearly out the door when her phone rang. She didn't have enough hands as it was. She almost didn't answer it, since she was _never_ late to work, and didn't intend to be today, either. Sighing and setting the thermos on the counter, she yielded and answered as she applied lip gloss, only to hear an unfamiliar male voice.

"Ms. Tawny Nichols?"

"Yes," she said almost coldly, and certainly impatiently, but also striving to be polite, rocking back and forth in her mid heel pumps, itching to get out that door and into her car. He was probably a telemarketer, as a name didn't appear on the screen and therefore was not entered in her contacts. Then why the _hell_ had she answered it? Damn it . . .

"Congratulations. I'm a representative of Cosmopolitan magazine calling to let you know that you've won a drawing you entered that is entitled, "Win a night with Hazza, Tommo, Nialler or Leeyum. My name is . . ." and he went into his spiel, but she could hardly hear him for the rushing in her ears. Her breath hitched and her throat convulsed.

 _What?_ It couldn't be true. She'd actually _won_ that ridiculous drawing she'd entered a few months ago? No way.

"I need to verify who you are, and that this call is legit," she said with what she hoped sounded like firm, self-assured authority and confidence.

"Of course," the man gave her a number to call to document and confirm that his call was indeed genuine. "You'll need to call anyway to arrange the specifics and location of your encounter and settle on a day and time that would work for everyone's schedules."

 _Encounter._ What a strange word to use for this instance.

Tawny's heart pounded as she ended the call, not at all sure she was going to call the number he'd given her, her first instinct telling her not to. She was suspicious, because why, of all the tens of millions of girls all over the country, had her card been drawn? It seemed nearly impossible. What were the odds? She'd done it on a whim too.

But when she started thinking about it, the man had certainly not sounded like a prankster. He'd been polished and professional. Not that that meant he was kosher, but added to the fact that she'd told absolutely _no one_ that she'd entered this contest, not a single soul, it just might be authentic. In fact, she'd almost forgotten about the drawing until now.

As she rushed to her car, she remembered the day she had picked up the Cosmopolitan magazine in the grocery store that had featured an article on One Direction. If the group hadn't been on the cover, she might not have looked twice at it. At age forty-six, she was slightly embarrassed that she was so taken with the boy band. Most of One Direction's fans were teens and twenties. She was nearly twice their age.

She also was very taken with the Monkees, but they had been One Directions' age back in the sixties. Big difference. The Monkees were now in their early seventies. Even so, she had frequently watched videos of both bands on Youtube, mesmerized by both. Must be a pattern here. In the videos, of course, both bands were in their twenties. The difference was One Direction was _now._ They were young _now,_ not guys that were young fifty years ago.

Pictures of Harry had caught her eye a couple of years ago, when Harry was about twenty. She'd had no idea who he was, but had been blown away by his looks, and taken time to find out who exactly he was. She began watching videos once she learned he was front man for One Direction, and slowly realized she liked Louis too—a l _ot._ Louis grew on her, and in time, he became her favorite, with Harry being a very close second.

Tawny had always been a music lover. And as luck would have it, she discovered she loved 1D's music as much as the boys themselves. She was rather picky about music, so this had been quite a surprise. She'd never, in her day, experienced such cheerful, upbeat, positive music with prominent guitars, drums, bass and hand clapping brought right into the foreground with the singers. She thought it very cleverly done. She liked the beat best of all. It was feel-good music—the kind you want to crank up until the walls shook. It was impossible to feel down, anxious or sad when listening to it. And shockingly, there wasn't a single song of theirs that she didn't like. That had never happened with any musical group before. Not even the Monkees.

To add to that, every song was unique. She began buying their CDs next, and steadily gathering information.

The group had a blast onstage, doing things that were original, and reflected their personalities. They were truly funny, every one of them. She quickly discovered that Louis was the trouble maker, the instigator. He'd freely throw water on any of the others to the point of drenching them, except for Harry, and all of them frequently slipped in that water, causing them to fall on a regular basis. They all tried to dance on occasion, with varying degrees of success, but it didn't come naturally to any of them. They had to work at it. The more she read about them, the more fascinated she became. No wonder they were so famous the world over—they had something to offer with their voices, their unique music and the constant entertainment that made up their concerts. They were quick witted and humor came almost too easily to them. Niall was Irish, the rest were from England. The most pleasing element in all of this was how famously they all got along. As if they were all of one mind.

Her mind drifted back again to that day she'd picked up the magazine and flipped through it as she waited in line at the check-out counter. There were several nice pictures of Harry and Louis she hadn't seen before and what looked like a good sized article on the band. On impulse, she threw it on the conveyor belt along with her milk, butter and ice cream.

Early on, she had told a couple of people about her passion for One Direction, and gotten the strangest looks in return. Dazed, disbelieving looks. A look that said she had to be kidding. One day when she purchased a CD of theirs, the lady cashier had said, "For your babies?" When she had replied, "No, me!" the woman hadn't known what to say. She had just stared at her the way the others had. As if Tawny had two heads or something. After that, Tawny never mentioned liking the group to anyone else. Enjoying music coming from a boy band half your age was apparently looked down on, never mind _lusting_ after them! And yep, there was no denying it no matter how hard she tried. She _did_ find herself lusting after them. She suspected a lot of people believed that to be perverted.

When Tawny had read the magazine that night at home, there had been a full page advertisement announcing a drawing. She skimmed over it quickly, then had gone to the article she'd bought the magazine for, which told a bit about each boy. But her fingers kept shuffling back through the pages, her eyes flicking back to the advertisement, seemingly of their own will.

After looking at that magazine every night for a week, along with reading everything she could find about the group online and continuing to watch videos, a seed of an idea, albeit an insane one came to her. _Why not?_ _Why the hell not?_ After studying the magazine ad for what seemed the hundredth time, she found herself infatuated with the idea. The chances of her winning were so ridiculously small, anyway, she reminded herself.

One important thing that stood out to her was that this contest was for eighteen and over only. Apparently, this was nothing like the "dates" you could win with David Cassidy, Davy Jones or Bobby Sherman back in the sixties. It featured "A night with the 1D member of the winner's choice." Zayn had already left the group so he, of course, was not included.

But just what did _a night_ entail? She was really curious now. It couldn't hurt anything to enter, she reasoned, even though in the same breath she thought it was silly for a woman of her age. After about ten days, she finally filled out the entry form, the deadline being only days away. She had almost thrown the form away several times, but in the end, in the mailbox it got dropped, and then mostly forgotten. But she certainly didn't stop watching videos of ID or listening to their music. She had to admit at this point, that she, along with millions of women and girls many years her junior, was now a Directioner.

The group was very diversified. Liam had a truly fantastic, versatile voice with a very good range, and it was clear he really enjoyed performing. Niall was a cute, energetic boy who could jump shockingly high, was very young looking, as well as having a very bright, cheery outlook on life, but it was clear by now that Louis and Harry had a secure hold on her heart.

She'd discovered the Larry Stylinson craze at some point, and found it captivating. It added a whole new dimension to the band's lore. The videos of all the open affection, and sometimes sneaky ways the boys tried to touch each other without the cameras picking it up, even on stage at concerts and during interviews was most riveting. At first she imagined people were making something out of nothing, until she saw a handful of "moments" that finally convinced her that there was indeed something going on between Harry and Louis. So basically she had been slowly learning about One Direction, and Harry and Louis in particular for a couple of years now.

As she drove to work, Tawny's mind raced. She needed to get the low-down, find out exactly what winning this contest entailed. The magazine had been rather vague, so she imagined it would be the same "date" type of thing like they'd done back in the sixties. The girl would get to spend an evening with one of them. Dinner and a movie, or something along those lines The difference was, the girls back in the sixties had been young teens, and this particular contest she'd won was only open to those who were at least eighteen. Tawny had a naturally inquisitive nature, so this contest really had her wondering. Would this date be pre-planned and what they would do be predetermined by the sponsors? Or would there be more freedom?

Wait . . . she wasn't really going to do this, was she? Of course not. None of the young guys of One Direction would want a middle-aged woman. They would feel cheated, as well they should. She should call and say she'd changed her mind, and then an adoring fan would have the chance to win. This was just weird. She shouldn't in all good conscience, accept it.

Tawny herself was young looking for her age, people having commented often that she looked ten years younger than she was. She still had a shapely body, kept herself fit, and her long blond hair also made her look youthful. And if she were younger, she wouldn't even hesitate to take on this incredible opportunity. She simply felt lame, dishonest, and like a cradle-robber to be dating someone so young. Even if it _were_ for only one date.

Then out of the blue she vaguely remembered an article she'd seen about Harry liking and dating women who were older than he, in fact some were twice his age. Harry was her number two choice, and no red-blooded woman, including herself, would turn him down. She pondered on whether or not she could bring herself to choose Harry over Louis. He would be the obvious choice, considering his history. Both of them must be bi too, hence this Larry Stylinson thing, if it were, in fact, true. With that face, she could forgive him for just about anything. There was nothing to forgive, however, since she had no problem with him being bi anyway.

She shook her head as if it would shake loose all her muddled as well as inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts of kissing one of them. But why even _give_ this a second thought? It was hare-brained and insane. She must be losing it.

Nevertheless, she did find herself sitting in her car on her lunch hour, calling Cosmopolitan magazine, her fingers punching in the number as if of their own accord. _Her fingers did the talking._ Trouble was, it was more true than she wanted to admit.

She told herself it was just her inquisitive nature, and that she would tell the representative that she had decided against it after hearing what it involved. She had to, at least, satisfy her curiosity. She got through quickly once she identified herself as the winner of the drawing, quoting the number she'd been given as identification. She had been directed to the correct extension within seconds.

The woman on the other end barraged her with what seemed to be hundreds of questions. What did she do for a living? Did she have her own place? (What did that have to do with anything?) When would she be available for the "date?" They wanted a list of dates from her when she'd be free, so they could match up a time when the boy of her choice would be available.

When the woman asked her birthdate, Tawny flushed bright pink before blurting it out. There was a generous pause after that, although the woman did not elaborate on her thoughts, nor did she give away her presumed shock. She did, however, repeat the date, asking if that was correct. She was probably stunned, thought Tawny. When Tawny verified it was, in fact, correct, there was yet another pause. She was then advised that it would be best if she had the next day off after the date. _What?_ Finally, the woman asked which boy she had chosen.

Somehow, she had not been able to find her tongue long enough to tell the rep that she'd decided against the whole thing. Oh hell, why not play along for now? She'd gotten this far—might as well get the scoop on what this "date" would be like. She hated wasting the woman's time, but she'd already been on the phone at least fifteen minutes. Why not go for broke? That was the excuse she gave herself to prolong the call and ferret out more information.

Back to which boy … just as she earlier had, she briefly considered Harry, his affection for older women being a big plus, and much more likely to make the date successful, but although she had a soft spot in her heart for Harry, she had an even bigger one for Louis. So the word "Louis" came out of her mouth in a slightly garbled kind of way.

"Now just let me make sure you know which one Louis is. This is only a formality, as I'm sure you know what the boys look like, but I'm also sure you can understand why I have to ask this. It would be quite a surprise to get a different boy than the one you were expecting, an inconvenience to the boys, and a need to reschedule, which would throw everything off, and possibly cancel the date altogether," the woman explained. She sounded disapproving, although that could have been Tawny's guilty conscience.

"Louis," the woman continued, "has brown hair, straight, not curly, is five foot nine, and one hundred fifty pounds and is twenty-four years old. He has vivid blue eyes. He is the one with the unique singing voice, with a higher register than any of the others. Make sure you know for sure who he is, and if not absolutely certain, Google him so you know exactly who will be showing up."

"I know who he is. No confusion at all on that," said Tawny, feeling slightly defensive and not knowing why.

She remembered reading how Harry referred to Louis as the "leader" of the group, with Harry being much more passive. Louis was also the class clown of the group, managers jokingly referring to him as being the hardest one to control. It seemed he was packed full of personality, energy and ideas, and was also a prankster—at least with the other band members. Would he be too much for _her_ to handle?

Had she picked the wrong one? Considering Harry was more quiet and actually a little on the shy side, and the fact that he liked older women made her second guess her decision. Harry, in theory, would be the ideal one to pick, but she also knew she'd end up kicking herself if she didn't stick with Louis.

"Okay," the woman snapped Tawny's mind back to the conversation. "Now the final step is that you'll have to come into an office nearest you so you can show your picture I.D. Either that or a rep will call on you at your home. Whichever is most convenient for you, and makes you feel more comfortable. We will also run a background check on you. You cannot be married, and cannot have ever committed a felony or been in prison. You must be a citizen of the United States …" the woman read a few paragraphs of further terms and conditions.

Good God, all of this for a _date?_ Tawny could have been toppled over by a slight breeze at this point. She realized though, that Louis was a celebrity, a big one, and they had to take all precautions that nothing happened to him.

"You do realize, also, that this will air on television?" the woman inquired.

" _What?"_

Tawny, apparently, had not read the fine print. She remembered nothing about television mentioned in the ad. Back in the sixties, they would show a picture or two of a sweet, innocent kiss at the end of the date with Bobby Sherman or whomever in a following magazine issue, but that was the extent of it. This airing on television sounded terribly intrusive to her.

"The whole date, on television?" she asked, dumbstruck.

"Yes, but it will be tastefully done, and there's more, but we were not at liberty to put all the details into the ad for the drawing, nor to disclose it on the phone. You'll be filled in on all of that when you go to show your I.D."

This was getting way out of hand, and weirder by the second. Just what the hell did "tastefully done" mean anyway? Tawny took down the address of a Cosmo satellite office that was about thirty minutes away, promising the woman she would be there this coming weekend. She didn't really care for the idea of the rep coming to her home. She wanted an easy way out if need be, and she felt she'd be more in control of the situation if she were to travel to their office instead of them coming to her.

The woman did mention that she could always change her mind after hearing all the particulars. Tawny thought the woman must have heard the wavering hesitation in her voice. Who _wouldn't_ be nervous… but she was starting to feel uncomfortably like a cougar. Or worse, a pervert.

That night, Tawny listened, _really_ listened to 1D music, after dropping by Best Buy on her way home, and her new, high quality earphones helped her to pick out Louis' voice. There could be no missing it though, regardless of what equipment you had or didn't have. He led the chorus, carried it, and dominated it. He did indeed have the highest register of the group. That was a no brainer. His solos were sweet and bright, and once again, his voice unmistakeable, yet not humanly possible to describe. It was pleasant, sweet, and innocent sounding. Yet, it was also raspy, raw and it cracked at the conclusion of some of the notes. Purposely, of course. The cracks were one of the trademarks of Louis' voice. Somehow, all their voices came together to create a truly unique sound that couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's, probably in the entire world. She found herself enraptured with it.

His confidence showed through in those choruses. And although his voice was sometimes referred to as weak and thin, the choruses seemed to bring out the very best in his voice. When watching Youtube, Tawny noticed hesitancy showed up when he was live. Studio recordings had to be perfect, with oftentimes dozens of takes being done before satisfaction was reached. Live was, as with every band, raw to a point, and that was when Louis seemed to wilt just a little. He seemed almost to shrink away, reluctant to solo. She also noted that when Louis seemed relaxed he sang with much greater confidence than if he were nervous or tentative. It was almost as if he didn't trust his voice. This made him even more dear to her heart because it showed he was human and fallible, one that was not complacent and smug.

Of all their songs, "No Control" "Moments" and "Night Changes" were her favorites. She loved Harry's low, sexy, almost careless voice in "Night Changes," and Louis' bright, very aggressive approach in "No Control."

But TV? She would be on TV? The only reason she'd entered the drawing in the first place was because the opportunity of being alone with Louis excited her, amazed her, and she wanted to experience it. She already felt like she practically knew him from all the research she'd done on him. But to have cameras and cameramen around, then millions of viewers when it aired? Um, no, she didn't think so. Now she was seriously considering not going to the interview, and calling to tell them she was withdrawing.

Television was getting more bold all the time. The reality shows were trying to outdo each other for ratings, and some were going all-out. It seemed that nothing was sacred or private anymore. Viewers wanted the most out-there, edgy material they could possibly find. Stuff that would eclipse Naked and Afraid, Man vs. Wild, Survivor Man, Alone, and several others. Pushing it to the limit, they were also bringing sexual situations in on adult reality channels, Big Brother having brought on that trend, and now with less and less censorship. Even the Newlywed Game had become racy! The ratings for these types of shows were astronomical. In the end, she decided she'd go, mostly because of the curiosity it sparked, and the novelty was getting to her. She had a lot more researching to do the meantime. She wondered what type of show this would turn out to be, and was almost afraid of the answer.

She'd have to wait until this weekend to find out . . .


	2. Chapter 2

With only four days to go until Saturday, when Tawny would go to the Cosmopolitan office, she felt she needed every spare minute she had to read up even more on Louis. She felt she couldn't know too much about him, but she could surely know too _little._ She felt her knowledge might give her an edge, such as being able to anticipate what he might like, such as TV shows, music, general areas of interest for the purpose of interesting conversation. But it was also unfair to him, as he would not have the same information on her. She'd help him through it though. She wanted him to know she had cared enough to go to the trouble to research his likes, dislikes, and idiosyncrasies. And yes, maybe she wanted to impress him a little bit too.

There was no way on God's green earth she could possibly watch all the ID videos on Youtube, so she watched the ones that looked like they might enlighten her the most, and she also watched a great many Larry ones. The Larry ones, admittedly, were more for her own curiosity than anything. She found she loved watching Harry and Louis interact with each other. It was truly intriguing. It really did look like blatant love to her. A very rare, deep kind of love. It was a hell of a lot more than lust, or their touches wouldn't be so tender, so caring, and they wouldn't stare so damn much into each other's eyes. She'd never seen the likes of it in her life.

One thing that concerned Tawny was the fact that when he talked, Louis wasn't always easy for her to understand. His Yorkshire accent was on the heavy side. And the fact that he often talked very fast made it even worse. The U.K. used expressions and words for objects that were frequently different from what she was used to hearing. So that would be a barrier to communication as well. But she found that the more she listened to him, the more easy it became to make out what he was saying, but she still had a long way to go. And no way was she going to make much progress before their "date." She wondered how long before the "date" would be scheduled. Would it be within a few weeks? A few months? She drove herself nearly mad every night after work, lying in bed with her mind racing. She really liked what she'd seen of Louis, but would he be completely different in person? And what would he think of her?

He seemed to have an insane sense of humor, was really quick witted, and accomplished in sarcasm and small talk. He always had a comeback, without exception.

So when Saturday arrived, even though she was nervous enough to shake, she was nevertheless relieved that the wait was over. She would finally be finding out what the deal was, and what exactly would be required of her. That is, _if_ she decided to do it.

Thankfully, the Cosmo satellite office was easy to find, and the meeting began the way it had on the phone with the other woman a few days ago. This time, however, she had a woman who was a little younger, seemed a lot more tolerant and understanding. She took a lot of pressure off Tawny by being so considerate. She had compassion, something Tawny needed right now in her less than confident state of mind. She almost felt like a dirty old woman, preying on a young hunk. And it seemed that everyone in the building stared at her as she passed them on her way to the appointed office. They probably hadn't really stared, just looked at her with curiosity; it was just that she was so self-conscious that she felt almost paranoid.

The same questions were covered about her job, where she lived, if she lived alone, etc. She guessed they asked twice to be sure they got the same answers. They certainly wouldn't want to throw Louis in the lion's den with a flakey and/or unstable woman. That would be unforgivable, and poor Louis would have to pay the price.

Then came the more intrusive, probing questions. How did she want to meet Louis? Tawny had just assumed he'd come to her front door, but considering now that he had to have a body guard or two with him, that would not be especially romantic.

"We can just have him walk in, and the body guards will stay outside. You won't have them hanging out in your house or making you feel as if you're on display."

 _On display?_ Isn't this what this was all about? Being on TV for the duration of the date was surely being on display if _anything_ was!

"Won't we be going on a date?" asked Tawny, and the woman, who was a petite, attractive red head, shook her head, her forehead creasing just a little under her thick bangs with what looked like a touch of consternation.

"Too many people would recognize him, even if he dressed atypically for himself. And that brings us to . .. what this whole thing is about." The woman hesitated, as if she were weighing in her mind how she should break this to Tawny. Tawny guessed the woman was sizing her up, deciding which tack to take.

She must have made a decision, because she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and went on. "This drawing was open only to eighteen and over for a reason," she paused, watching Tawny's face for a reaction. "This is a special that NBC is airing as an experiment, so to speak. Viewers want something different, as audiences are always looking for something more daring, more exciting and suspenseful. If this works out well, they may decide to continue with other stars and contest winners. You could be, essentially, the predecessor."

 _Guinea pig sounds more like it_ , Tawny mused.

Tawny had been right. She'd had a gut feeling that there was something fishy here. Well, not exactly _fishy_ , because it was NBC after all, and you don't get much more accredited than that, but this _was_ something out of the ordinary, to say the least. She waited anxiously for the rest of it.

"They are wanting to air a, shall I say, 'sexy' date," miss redhead smiled mildly, still watching Tawny with vigilant eyes.

Oh boy, now things were _really_ getting interesting! The "tastefully done" comment from the woman rep on the phone came back to her. Yep, it was all adding up.

"You don't mean . . . " Tawny tried to find words. "You don't mean we're supposed to be . . . _intimate,_ do you?"

Now she was figuring out what the woman meant by asking her how she preferred to meet Louis. She'd wanted to know if Tawny had wanted him to walk into her bedroom. Tawny presumed they needed to cover all bases. Some girls would certainly prefer that, and they had no way of knowing what category Tawny would fall into, so it was imperative that they found out before the date, and as subtly and low key as possible.

"Well, yes. Intimacy would be the goal. If it doesn't work out though, for whatever reason or reasons, NBC would not hold you to that."

Even though Tawny was not naïve, and now had more than a vague idea, it still jarred her down to the bone. Hearing it put into words, out loud, was quite disconcerting.

 _Intimacy._

"Cameramen?" was all she was able to get out of her vocal chords. She took a sip of the glass of water the woman had placed on the desk for her. She was grateful, as her throat was as dry as sandpaper.

"Oh no. There will be cameras set up in your house, but no cameramen, or anyone else in the house with you and Louis. The body guards will stay outside of the house and patrol, just to be sure no one who might have seen Louis tries to get inside, although every precaution will be taken to avoid him being recognized and followed."

Okay, this was serious stuff. Tawny had only had one one-night stand in her life. She'd had a little too much to drink and had invited a guy home with her. She regretted it to this day. She didn't even remember his name. She'd had her share of boyfriends, but then, she was forty-six years old. It wasn't as if she hadn't been around the block. She'd even been married back in her late twenties, but she just couldn't see herself and Louis bonding enough in just a few hours to go to bed together. She felt it was cheap, sleazy and sordid. She had a sudden urge to get up and leave. She bravely fought it off, sitting rigid in her chair, determined to at least get through this interview without bailing.

"And if . . . if something were to actually happen, how much detail would be aired?" Tawny asked, her voice sounding hollow and timid to her own ears.

This time miss redhead sipped her own water. "Well, kisses would be shown clearly, of course, but no personal body parts. Like a movie that is somewhere between G and R rated. Nothing distinctly seen, yet, be aware the viewer would have no doubt of what was going on. If anything were to show, it would be grayed out."

 _As if no body parts were going to show_! Tawny thought that laughable. The only way that would happen was if everything took place completely under the covers.

This was sounding more and more decadent to Tawny, and not in the pleasing form of the word. Debauched was more like it. Corrupted, sick. Her one chance to meet and spend time with Louis Tomlinson, and they were going to cheapen it? If anyone, _anyone_ tried to make her memorize or even look over a script, or told her how to act or what to do, she would call the whole thing off.

"So, what would we be doing?" Tawny asked before the woman had time to say more. "I mean, besides the obvious, _if_ it even happens?"

Clearly, the woman was not prepared for that particular question. Tawny could see her struggling to find the right words.

"Oh, well . . . getting to know each other, of course. Talking, flirting. The hope is that things would progress naturally from there."

Progress naturally, her ass! A guy comes into her home, and they sit, talk, flirt, and then have sex? Someone she hadn't even known until that night? Yeah, real natural sounding. She wanted to say something sarcastic, but the thought of getting to meet him stopped her cold. She guessed it all came down to that in the end. Did she want to meet him _that_ badly? That she'd put herself out there, her _private_ self, for the world to see? The short answer was _YES_.

"We can send the camera crew out tomorrow, to set all the equipment up, if it's convenient for you," the woman went on.

"Wait, hold on a minute. I need some answers first. Can Louis and I leave the house?" Tawny was desperately wracking her brain for things she would need to know. She should have made a list, dammit!

"I was going to touch on that near the end of our conversation, but no, that isn't really what this show is about. You need to stay inside the house. Please keep in mind that Louis is very famous. If he went outside, there is always the chance he would be spotted, and then you'd have instant pandemonium. A large group of young people can form amazingly fast, and then he'd be chased, and the body guards would have to call in reinforcements to keep them away from your door, as two of them wouldn't be sufficient for a crowd the size One Direction seems to attract."

Yeah, that would really be a bummer, thought Tawny. Talk about killing the mood!

"Well, what if we wanted to go out for a bite to eat or something? Couldn't a car take us?" Tawny didn't expect to be pampered and chauffeured around, but she felt a little uneasy about the two of them just sitting around at home. Louis had to be used to good entertainment, and what did she have? A computer that was several years old, an ipod, a TV with DVD, a dozen or so movies, and an inexpensive stereo. That was about it. Not even any video games, as she had no interest in them. Hardly impressive, and she was afraid he would be bored to tears within half an hour.

"No, I'm afraid not. It would attract attention wherever you went, as Louis will not be in disguise. The production crew will be bringing food, snacks and beverages to your house, and you can request anything in particular that you would like them to bring such as a favorite ice cream, cake, whatever."

Tawny nodded. Her humble abode still seemed way too tame for a guy who was undoubtedly accustomed to huge screen TVs, surround sound stereos with things like boom boxes and equalizers or whatever they were called, to make it sound better, and who knew what else.

"Your date will last twelve hours—from eight in the evening until eight the next morning," the lady added. "After that, Louis is free to do what he wants. The cameras will be cleared out and he can leave at that time, if he desires."

So . . . this would be no ordinary date in any sense of the word. This was to be an _all night_ date! She finally had the entire story.

"What if the whole thing is a flop? I mean . . . what if we talk for a while, and then we get tired, he goes to sleep in my spare bedroom, and nothing at all happens?"

"In that case, NBC will have to eat the cost. Like I said, it's an experiment of sorts. No blame would be placed on either you or Louis if it doesn't work out as . . . planned." The woman was trying to be discreet, and Tawny felt for her, as her position had to be quite difficult. Tawny sure wouldn't want to be in her place, that was for sure.

"What should I be wearing?" Tawny felt like a child asking for instructions. She still felt almost clueless about a lot of the details.

"Oh, just your normal clothes you might wear on an everyday basis. No need to get overly dressed up."

Yeah, they want to make it as easy as possible to get my clothes _off,_ thought Tawny. But it was NBC TV, not the woman she had to blame. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

"Any more questions?"

"Not that I can think of right now."

"Alright, well, we need to decide on some dates you will be free, including the day after."

"What is this about the day after?" Tawny was still curious about that.

"Oh, well, just in case you stay up late . . ." the woman trailed off, looking a little flustered. Oh, so there it was again. They expected Louis and herself to be up all night. And just what did they expect them to be doing? Having wild sex all night, of course. Tawny gave a slight, sardonic laugh. Miss redhead gazed at her curiously. Tawny wanted to tell her that she didn't turn on and off like a light switch. She wasn't innocent, but she wasn't easy either. At at the very least, she had to have a connection with the guy.

Tawny quickly pulled a calendar out of her purse, even though she never worked weekends. "A Saturday would be best for me," she said, figuring it would be too tiring to work all day Friday and then have to come home and contend with whatever would be going on before Louis arrived. She'd need all day to get prepared.

"Okay, let's plan on either Saturday the seventh or Saturday the fourteenth? No plans on those dates?"

Tawny's eyes bugged. Holy shit, the seventh was only two weeks away! She nodded mutely.

"I show that Louis will be available on the seventh. So let's plan for that, unless something comes up?" the woman was already penciling it in on a huge calendar of what Tawny assumed to be upcoming events that she had on her desk.

Tawny swallowed, trying to regain some degree of control. "That's fine," she managed to croak.

 _So, she'd committed herself._ She'd agreed to the date, and that was a commitment. She reflected that some day she was either going to look back on this with fondness, or remorse.

Next were the papers she had to sign. Papers saying she wouldn't violate any of the rules, like the one about going outside the house, not telling anyone about Louis being there, not contacting any magazine or tabloid, and a host of other conditions that really didn't apply, as she would never do any of them. Her phone was also to be turned off for the duration of Louis' stay.

Finally, the woman asked if Tawny had any special requests as far as Louis himself went.

Feeling sarcastic, Tawny felt like saying, " _Yes, deliver him exhausted so he won't be all wound up like he is on stage. At my age, I wouldn't be able to catch him."_ She remembered him running wide open on stage, jumping over obstacles with ease, while having the well-known water fights. The guy had some serious energy.

Instead, she said, "Yes, just one thing. Can we do no hairspray?"

"I'm sure we can," said the woman as she jotted down a note to herself.

The woman told her to call with any other questions she might think of, and ushered her out of the office, apparently having other appointments and obligations she had to get to.

* * *

The next couple of weeks went by in more or less a blur. Tawny couldn't tell a single soul about this whole crazy thing, and she could hardly stand having to keep it all to herself. Not that anyone else she knew would understand anyway. She tried to keep busy at work. That wasn't difficult, as she was a legal secretary for a very busy law firm and had plenty to do. Too much to do, in fact. There was always a pile of files on her desk. A pile she rarely got to the bottom of. But it helped to keep her mind off Louis as much as was possible.

She thought about NBC, and how they expected (or hoped) she'd have sex with Louis, and she couldn't help feeling a little resentful. She was also damned if she was going to let it affect her on this date. She would be true to herself before anything else. Besides, if things didn't work out, NBC could surely afford it.

She cleaned her modest home thoroughly a few days before the date, well aware every step of the way that the 1D star was used to a huge, fancy house with lots of electronics, and probably a pool and spa, at the _least_. She had none of that. At this point, she wondered how much information they would be giving _him_ about _her_. If they told him her age, he would at least be prepared, and probably greatly disappointed. She worried about that more than anything else. _Maybe, if that were the case, he'd send Harry instead._ She smiled at that thought _._ She wouldn't complain for a moment, although Louis was her first choice.

When the day finally arrived, she could hardly believe Louis Tomlinson would actually be in her house. All her mind could come up with were disastrous scenarios—all negative and nothing positive. In the morning, the cameramen came and set up cameras in her house. Many, many cameras. There were several at various angles in every room except for the bathrooms. There was no way she'd be able to hide from them.

A spokesperson from NBC tried a couple of times to coax her into certain things she could do, how she should act, and she rejected it out of hand. She insisted that she would be herself, that this was not a movie that she was going to be acting in. She made it clear she would be her natural self, or she wanted no part of it. The guy backed off.

In the early afternoon, after the television people and camera crew had left, Tawny hoped none of her neighbors had seen all those people entering her house. They'd tried to keep a low profile, but the neighbors knew Tawny never had that many visitors at once. Since it was Saturday, they had made it a point to come early—at six am, hoping that most of her neighbors would still be sleeping.

The final question she'd been asked by the producer, director, or whatever he was, because she was so nervous that she couldn't even remember, had been what ambience she preferred. At least they were taking her preferences into consideration. She'd answered that she wanted everything casual and low key. Low lights were an essential (no one else knew that was because she didn't want Louis to notice her age). They just assumed she wanted a romantic atmosphere, so that went smoothly. Of course, they wanted romance encouraged as much as possible. When they were finished, the cameras and high-powered microphones seemed to be everywhere she looked, but unless you knew they were there, they were all but invisible.

An NBC reporter had called her and wanted to interview her a couple of weeks ago, just days after her visit to the Cosmo office. He had wanted to put the interview into a televised preview to promote the show, but she had politely refused. She was afraid Louis might see the interview, and besides that, she had no desire to be scrutinized by the public. They'd just have to wait until the show aired.

She had dressed in a black midi skater dress with spot lace. It had a V-neck that was sexy yet tasteful, and didn't dip so low that she would look like she was trying to seduce him. It did hug her curves in a delicate, feminine way. She had nice, shapely legs, so why hide them? She wanted a sophisticated yet casual look. When she'd gone shopping for a dress, this one had called out her name, and she'd instantly known it was the one she would wear tonight. The impression she wanted to give was what this dress delivered.

Her hair was pulled into a loosely braided up do with a tortoise shell clip, and graceful, flowing tendrils allowed to escape about her neck, ears and cheeks, her long bangs swept to the side. She wore very little jewelry. Just a mystic topaz ring and a matching pendant around her neck. She wore no earrings, as she'd never had her ears pierced. She'd thought it barbaric, and had not followed a lot of trends because her distinct identity was important to her. Her shoes were black flats. Even though she knew Louis was five nine and she was five five, she could have worn heels, but four or so inches in height difference had always felt just right to her when she was with a man.

Wringing her hands, and telling herself she was stupid for letting the nervousness rattle her, she tried to breathe slowly and deeply to calm her very jagged nerves. She wasn't having much success. As the time drew nearer, she vacillated on whether to have the stereo or the TV on. She'd carefully and painstakingly adjusted the lighting in the living room and the rest of the house so it was just enough to see each other easily, but not enough, she hoped, for him to detect her age. All women knew harsh lights were not good, and shadows were becoming to a woman on the other side of forty. She had been told Louis would be informed that the lights would be dimmed. Surprises at this point probably wouldn't be a very good thing, after all.

She decided to turn on the radio, but then she had trouble deciding which station it should be on. She decided on soft rock. The caterers brought the food over just before Louis was scheduled to arrive. Good thing she was expecting them or she might have fainted when the doorbell rang, thinking it was him.

They brought finger foods—crab puffs, stuffed mushrooms, chicken fingers, and several others, not forgetting the carrots Louis was so fond of, along with desserts such as brownies, lemon bars, tarts, as well as both Tawny and Louis' favorite ice cream. Tawny's was Peppermint Fudge Ribbon, and she discovered his was strawberry. Pretty straightforward. She liked it though, even though it didn't reflect the Louis she _thought_ she knew from the videos. He seemed a little wild for just plain strawberry ice cream. They also brought champagne in an ice chest. As if _that_ wasn't obvious! They were hoping she'd get tipsy enough to lose her inhibitions, she thought wryly.

When the caterers left, she knew his arrival was imminent, and her stomach was in knots, adrenaline rushes spiking every couple of minutes. They rippled through her entire body. She was tensed up all over. This was atrocious, the state she was in. She _had_ to get a hold of herself! Taking a deep, steadying breath, she heard footsteps coming up her sidewalk, and she knew the moment had arrived . . .


	3. Chapter 3

A solid knock at the door almost made her gasp, even though she was expecting it. She'd gotten herself into this mess, and now she had to put on her big girl panties and face the big bad wolf. A very _desirable_ wolf, if he looked anything like he did in those videos.

She turned her phone off, loving the sense of satisfaction it gave her. She kind of liked the idea—herself and Louis, cut off from the world. She laid the phone back on the coffee table and went to answer the door, her pounding heart in her throat.

What she saw when she opened the door was enough to knock her to her knees. There stood Louis, in a denim jacket with a black t-shirt underneath, sexy black skinny jeans and black and white Vans—with no socks, of course. If he'd had his hair slicked back, he would look downright dangerous. She knew this was pretty much the way he usually dressed. When other guys dressed this way they looked ordinary. But not Louis. He managed to stand out and shine, looking totally hot. She didn't know how he did it. Oh yes, she did. He was Louis. He would be hot in anything from a suit to rags.

He immediately pulled that wide closed mouth goofy smile of his that he was famous for. At least he didn't cross his eyes when he did it, she thought with an inward giggle. It broke the initial ice effectively. Who else in the entire world could take an awkward position such as this, and make light of it with such ease?

She was so busy ogling him that she had zoned out, not realizing she was staring. When she snapped to, Louis said, "Nah then Tawny," as a greeting. She didn't know it was a greeting, so she continued to gaze at him in confusion.

Realizing she didn't understand him, he said, "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Louis," and he extended his hand. It wasn't until then that she saw the two body guards silently flanking him, one on each side. They were big, tall, burly, and very serious looking. The "get the job done" no-nonsense type. She smiled at them, and they smiled back in a very subdued, professional way.

"Hi Louis," she was shocked that she was even able to speak. His handshake was firm and as solid as his knock on the door had been.

"I'm Tawny. Come on in." She stepped aside for him to enter, and the body guards just kind of melted back into the night.

Louis stepped into her house, and the first thing she picked up on was his supreme confidence. It blanketed everything, including her. It was the way he carried himself. He walked like a man who owned the world. You could almost say he had a swagger. His presence infiltrated her home the moment he crossed the threshold. How many twenty-four year olds had that kind of moxy?

 _Wow._

Again, she reflected that she should have picked Harry. He was a lot more mild mannered; he didn't have that overbearing quality to him that Louis had. Strange she should think that, based only on the one minute she'd known Louis. She was just a little afraid that he'd be too much for her. She almost felt threatened. Not physically, but mentally. He had a bearing that radiated from him even when he wasn't speaking. He was looking around her home, his head turning this way and that, and it seemed that nothing escaped him. She felt goose bumps rising on the skin of her arms.

"Can I take your jacket?" she asked, and he slid it off, revealing how snug the t-shirt fit him and the way it hugged his biceps like a lover. Oh Lord. As she hung his jacket up in the hall closet, her fingers felt numb, and she knew it was his effect on her that was causing it, and somehow, by some miracle, she managed to get the task done without dropping his jacket on the floor.

Already, she could see what Harry saw in him. His smile was disarming, his aura surrounding her like a live wire. Now she knew why the other guys in the band called him the leader. His very demeanor screamed "leader," that much was prominent.

She took in his hair then. Ah yes . . . he had honored her wishes with no hairspray. It was fluffy, shiny, and soft looking, swept to the side, falling down over his forehead. She loved his suave look with his hair combed back too, as it really played up his handsome features, but this was her favorite look. Somehow, he managed to look innocent and like a bad boy at the same time, and it was so enticing that it sent sparks along her nerves.

Then, he turned to say something, and looked at her directly, much closer in distance then they'd been when she'd answered the door. They were only a little more than a foot apart, and she saw his eyes clearly. Oh God, none of the pictures had done him justice! Those eyes were captivating. Caribbean blue, vivid and intense. She got lost in them, and knew she could just as easily get lost in _him._

He grinned, and her insides turned to jelly. He had such a kind, gentle smile. A little on the impish side too. And that strong chin and jaw . . .

"A little awkward, innit?" he asked. Well, at least, so far, she'd been able to understand him, but his Yorkshire accent was enough to make her lose her breath all over again.

 _Sexy._

"Yeah," she giggled nervously. "Sit down, will you? What can I offer you to eat and drink? The caterers brought more food than an army could eat, and all kinds of soft drinks . . . " she had almost mentioned the champagne, but it suddenly embarrassed her. It represented something she did not want to address.

"Nothing right now thanks. Maybe a little later."

"I'm sorry I don't have much entertainment to offer you. A small screen TV, some movies, music on a rickety old stereo, and that's the extent of it."

"Oh, you have no idea," he said, settling himself on the couch as if he'd lived at her house all his life. Comfortable and laid back, he settled his left ankle on his right knee, stretching his arms out along the back of the couch, the way she'd seen him do in so many interviews, again looking as if he held the world in his hands.

"This is nice . . . being somewhere homey, not having to worry about practice or an upcoming show. Nice to just relax and talk-like at home in Doncaster." Tawny then remembered his parents' home in England where Louis grew up. She felt a release of tension because it sounded like Louis craved the quiet as a respite from the screaming crowds at concerts, always having to watch his back, avoiding being jumped by fans, not to mention the rigorous photo sessions and voice training. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all . . .

When she sat down next to him, his cologne intoxicated her. He had shaved off his beard stubble, and she thought to herself how nice he looked without it. She found that she preferred him without it. His black and white Vans looked brand new. She almost smiled at the fact that he wore no socks, wondering if that weren't a silent act of quiet rebellion.

His voice was composed and pleasant. It seemed odd to her that he should be so hushed—a person that Harry had described as "loud, loud, loud." Watching the interviews had greatly broadened her knowledge of Louis, and it came to the forefront of her mind now, wondering if he was putting on a quiet act for her benefit.

There was no need, however, to put on an act, as it was pretty apparent he was making himself right at home, wasn't overly worried about impressing anyone, and he evidently wasn't acquainted with nervousness. Honestly, it looked as though he didn't have the word in his vocabulary. She kept getting little flashbacks of scenes in videos, like the one where he dressed like Clark Kent, then ripped off his shirt to show a Superman shirt underneath, yelling "Superman!" loud enough for Harry to have to plug his ears.

Then again, he'd been several years younger then. Maybe this was maturity she was seeing tonight. Maybe the wild and crazy Louis was a little _less_ wild and crazy now that he was a little older?

"You're skittish—why? We're supposed to be getting to know each other, know what I mean?" It came out more like, "Know 'a mean?" This was because of his lack of pronunciation of certain letters, and that was what threw her off the most. His "t's" were dropped, and often "g's" at the end of a word. So were 'h's" at the beginning of his words. Therefore, a lot of his words sounded half-formed to her.

"Oh, I'm always shy when I first meet someone—especially you," she said, not elaborating that she'd been mooning over him for what seemed a lifetime.

He looked thoughtful. "I quite like that. Women that aren't pushy, I mean. But you know, I'm just an ordinary person, no different from anyone else."

 _Easy for him to say._ A worldwide pop star, and yet he acted as if he were a casual friend coming over for a visit. As if she shouldn't treat him any differently. How could she possibly treat him as if he were _ordinary?_

During their initial conversation, she observed he was cheeky, yet stopped short of cocky. She envied him his confidence and ease. How much more she'd be able to enjoy him if she could just relax as he did! This guy would probably be relaxed in just about any situation.

Once he got on a roll and talked freely, his left-out letters ensured her complacency left in a hurry, and she came to the realization that being able to understand him was not going to be as easy as she had first thought. His speech was smooth, the words gliding from his mouth like silk, and so quickly that she couldn't keep up. He drew out his vowels to the point to where she was mesmerized right along with being completely bewildered as well as bewitched. She could just sit and listen to him talk all day!

"I was so nervous about this . . . whole thing," she confessed.

"Well . . . it's something new, like a blind date, only better."

"How is it better?" she asked.

"Well, I knew you'd be good looking," he answered simply.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because they told me. That's all they told me though. I said I didn't want to know anything else. I wanted it to be a surprise."

So, they _hadn't_ told him her age!

"Well, what do you think? Am I . . . " she wasn't sure how to put this, but she'd said this much, and had to finish her sentence. He saved her the struggle and embarrassment.

"I think you're lovely."

"Why, thank you. And you are just as handsome and dashing as you appear on video."

"Thank you," he handled it graciously, another reflection of his confidence.

"The Sassamaster of Doncaster," she said. "I've also heard the Swagmaster of Doncaster."

"Oh, so you know me nicknames too?"

"Louis, I've seen so many videos. Not _all_ of them, of course, because I'd never get through all of them even if I watched for hours every day. But I've seen enough to have quite a bit of trivia on you."

"Yes, I'm the Donny Lad, as the others call me, among lots of other, less savory things," he chuckled, and it sounded so beautiful and familiar to her ears. She knew him so well, yet she didn't know him at all. What an odd thing. A computer screen was one thing, but the real, live thing was a thousand times better.

"So what made you enter the drawing?" he asked, raising his eyebrows comically. He certainly didn't lack for things to talk about. Questions seemed to flow from him. He was as easy to talk to as just about anyone she knew.

"Oh, it's really a long story."

"No, no, I want to hear it."

"Okay, well, I'll give you the short version. I'd seen a picture of Harry a couple of years ago, and got curious. That's when I found out he was with One Direction. I got hooked on the music right away, then started reading articles online, looking at pictures and watching good ole' Youtube. Not long after that, I really started noticing you."

"And what did you think?" He was leaning forward, truly interested, really putting her on the spot, and looking at her in that way that he'd looked at his interviewer when he'd said, "Define girlfriend." In other words, he was nothing if not direct and point-blank. But she liked that.

She squirmed, ashamed to admit she thought he was cute and charming. So instead she mentioned his crazy sense of humor, his energy and his charity work.

"You really have been checking out the videos, haven't you?"

"To an extent you wouldn't even believe."

He looked like he was thinking that over, then recovered in an instant, only to start inundating her with more questions.

"So tell me about your life. What do you do?"

 _What?_ She had expected him to want to talk mostly about the band, their adventures, their concerts, their songwriting. And she'd wanted to hear it. She really hadn't expected him to turn the spotlight on her.

"Not much to tell, and boring as hell compared to your life. I work as a legal secretary, then come home, eat, and go to bed. Occasionally I date, but not often."

"Why not?" he probed, his eyes showing true absorption. He was not just making a show of caring for the benefit of the cameras and microphones.

 _She wished to hell she could stop thinking about those damn intrusive things!_ Louis had probably just put them out of his mind. He was probably capable of that, having had so much exposure to them. They were just a mere fixture in his life.

"Well, it seems I always get let down in some way." Oh no, she didn't want to appear whiny! "What I mean is, something always happens to sabotage things, and I never end up dating anyone any longer than a month or two."

"I don't like short term relationships meself."

Tawny was surprised, and she didn't hide it. "Then why did you agree to do this drawing thing?"

"No reason really. Maybe because it was something different. And I knew it was for over eighteen, and, frankly, I'm tired of teeny-boppers begging me to follow them on Twitter or something. I was actually hoping for someone closer to me own age."

 _Closer to his age! Oh God!_ Now that he'd brought up age, it was now or never. She _had_ to say something.

"While we're on the subject of age . . . um, I think we went too much in the _other_ direction. I'm older than you," she finished lamely.

"Ah, two directions instead of one?" he looked amused with his own joke, then saw how somber her face was, and abandoned it.

"I can see that you're older than me," he said, continuing his unusual degree of directness. "But, you see, that doesn't matter to me."

"Well, I have the lights down low for more than one reason. It's also so you won't see just how old I am."

"Well then, how old _are_ you?" He was smiling adorably, and she was dying inside." Seventy-five?"

Tawny laughed. "Not quite _that_ old, but too old for you to have a date with. It's really not fair to you, and I feel awful about it. I probably shouldn't have gone through with it, but I suppose I was too selfish to give it up when I won."

"I really don't get the impression you're _that_ much older than me. Maybe ten years?"

"Don't flatter me. You know I'm more than thirty-four."

"No, actually I don't. You look about that to me."

"Brace yourself. I'm nearly twice your age."

She waited for a reaction. Maybe he'd get up and storm out the door. Maybe he'd give her his bitchy look (and even _that_ was sexy, she had to admit) or maybe he'd get really quiet and hardly talk for the rest of the date. But it had to be done.

"I'm forty-six, Louis."

More silence. He had a contemplative look on his face. Then he spoke. "I'll just be me, and be straightforward like I always am-I never would have taken you for forty-six."

"It's probably the low lighting, like I said."

"Don't think so," he countered. "In any case, I'm very happy."

 _Happy with her?_

"You are? You aren't disappointed?"

"No, not at all. In fact, I'm a little like Harry in that respect. I do like some women that are older than me."

She wasn't going to push it. Best to leave things as they seemed. Peaceful, with no ill feelings. Inside, she was thrilled. So thrilled she felt like going outside and screaming at the top of her lungs in glee.

The more they talked, the better she got at deciphering his speech. "You aren't as hard to understand as I thought you'd be."

"Confession here. I had to promise NBC to speak slowly and enunciate clearly. Not only for you, but the microphones too. But when I get on a roll, I still can't help speaking quickly. Not much I can do about the accent, but it's difficult when I spend time in both the U.K. and the U.S. I have to change my speech and expressions depending on where I am. So many differences in lingo too. And sometimes, momentarily, I forget which country I'm in! It's quite comical, really. I'm working hard to speak more like an American when I'm here."

"Oh, but don't change too much! I love your accent, so please don't ever try to change that."

"The accent is one thing, but a lot of it is all the different words we use in the U.K. that aren't heard here. I remember the first and only time I called an alleyway a "snicket" here. I got the weirdest looks."

"An alleyway is a snicket in the U.K.?" She found that very humorous.

"Yep."

"Hey what do you say we get into the appetizers? The cold ones are in the fridge, and the ones that are supposed to be eaten hot are in a warmer that the caterers put in the kitchen."

"Sure!" His attitude was luminous, and his eyes sparkled. He was brightening up more all the time, and acting more like the Tommo she'd come to secretly know and love on the computer monitor. His slight reserve was wearing off. She loved the way this was going so far . . . Just as long as she didn't let him see her in full light . . .

They carried the appetizers out to the living room together. Tawny walked behind him and took this opportunity to study him. His butt was hard to miss. Yep, it was all it was cracked up to be, and more. Very rare on a man, it was so nicely rounded and firm. The kind of butt you just yearn to pinch or bite. A true wonder. His thighs were muscled and shapely as well. No toothpicks there! He looked so cute, sauntering along in his sockless sneakers.

There was enough for at least three full meals for the two of them. Tawny was trying to decide what to sample first, when Louis saw the carrots.

"Carrots!" he yelped as he grabbed a carrot stick and poked it in one of the dips on the tray.

"I already knew you loved carrots," Tawny remarked shyly.

"I know, I know. You saw it in a video or read it," Louis smiled. "I need to catch up. I want to know as much about you as you know about me. Equalize things a little."

"I don't know if that would be possible. I know almost _too_ much about you." Tawny raised her eyebrows and waggled them a bit. She was thinking of Larry Stylinson, but no way was she going to bring _that_ up. If anything were to ruin the evening, that could be it if Louis was sensitive about it, but, no doubt he'd be inclined to deny it anyway.

"Oh, so you know a lot of detail about me?" he made one of his faces, and she started to crack up. The man with a thousand expressions.

"I hope you don't know _too_ much, luv, because that could be embarrassing. Hey, I'm a bit dry. I'll go get us a soft drink from the fridge. What would you like?" She stated her preference for Dr. Pepper, and watched him again as he went back into the kitchen, acting as if he'd been doing it for years. He had such assurance, such belief in himself. What must that be like? She had the feeling that he believed he could handle any situation.

 _And he probably could._ Competency oozed from his every pore.

"Pizza bites!" he said next, setting his Coke on a coaster on the coffee table, popping a pizza bite into his mouth as he handed her the Dr. Pepper with his other hand.

After examining her phone on the coffee table, he showed her his iphone. "See? It's turned off too. I'm free!"

They ate, laughed and enjoyed. He was busy telling stories about the other band members when he suddenly stopped on a dime and said, "Can I feed you?"

He wasn't making a funny face, so she assumed he was serious. Somehow it sounded so . . . forbidden. He speared a Cajun meatball with his fork. "You haven't had any of these yet. You'll love it. They're moist, and, actually, they almost melt in your mouth." She had trouble understanding that last sentence, as it was all run together, but she found pride in the fact that she was able to figure it out pretty quickly.

"Okay." She opened her mouth, and he gently inserted the fork. The meatball was indeed delicious. Louis next picked up something else, this time with his fingers, and brought to her mouth. This was a _whole lot_ more forbidden than a fork! When he drew his hand back, his fingers brushed against her lips, and something crackled like lightning inside her. She was old enough to recognize desire when she felt it, and _feel_ it, she did. It was so strong that it startled her. Okay, so now she knew for _sure_ that she didn't just like him because he was cute. In this real world situation she now knew he turned her on, and that could get her into a whole lot of trouble.

She wasn't sure, but it seemed as If he'd fed the morsel to her very slowly on purpose, and took his time removing his fingers in such a gradual seductive way, also on purpose. Or she could be imagining things.

"Is it good?" he asked. With a jolt Tawny realized she hadn't even tasted it when she'd chewed and swallowed it. That was how caught up in Louis' fingers she had been.

"Uh yes . . . very good," she managed to say.

"What was it?" he asked. _Caught._ She had no idea what it was, or even any idea if it was sweet, sour, bland, or anything else.

"I don't know, but it's good," and she hoped he would drop the subject because she would just perish if he pushed it and discovered the real reason she couldn't identify what he'd fed her.

"There's also our favorite flavors of ice cream in the freezer for when you're ready," she said.

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten they asked me my favorite flavor a week or so ago."

They put the appetizers away when they were full, and Tawny dug the ice cream containers out of the freezer. She was so busy checking Louis out from the corner of her eye that she spilled some ice cream on the kitchen floor. Louis didn't see it, and came up beside her to help her dish it up. He stepped right into the ice cream with his brand new sneakers, and slipped, almost going down.

"Shit!" he uttered, then slapped his hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

In her effort to catch his arm to help keep him from falling, she also slipped in the same melting lump of ice cream.

"Shit!" she said reflexively, without even thinking.

"Well, now we have _two_ shits!" said Louis, and they laughed raucously. They'd both barely managed to grab the counter in time to keep from falling.

"That could have been disastrous," he commented. The two of us on the floor with broken legs, smeared in ice cream. Can you imagine it? Me body guards would have a fit!"

So, now Louis' real personality had fully emerged. Like the sun, it appeared from behind tentative clouds. Not that he'd ever _acted_ tentative. She didn't think that possible. But as it almost always is with new acquaintances, they'd had to test the waters a little bit. He had the same personality she'd seen on the stage and in the livelier interviews. She was elated because now she was pretty sure that meant he was really comfortable with her.

Right as they sat back down on the couch, a shadow caught Tawny's eye as it appeared at one of the windows in her living room. The large form just stood there for a few seconds, then moved slightly, walking slowly along the side of the house, toward the front. A lumbering, looming, ominous shadow. Tawny screamed, and jumped, launching herself at Louis instinctively, ending up practically in his lap, clutching him, digging her nails into his arm, and pointing toward the window breathlessly.

"Someone's out there!" she gasped. "Oh my God, they must know you're in here!" All matter of scenarios were spinning in her head. Someone could take Louis hostage, one of those deranged characters that stalked celebrities, along with a host of other horrific things streamed like an unstoppable, fast moving river in her mind.

Louis chuckled. "Hell fire! Tawny, calm down, luv. It's just one of me body guards. He's just walking around the house, making sure no one gets near."

 _Oh, how humiliating!_ She'd forgotten all about the body guards! And now here she was, wrapped around Louis, still not really able to move from the lingering fright, even though she now knew there was no danger. It was as if she were paralyzed.

He laughed again and simply sat there, content to wait patiently until she loosened her vise grip on him. Gradually, her breathing slowed and she disentangled herself from him.

"Listen, I have something to talk to you about. It's worrying me. I want to whisper it in your ear, but the microphones are so powerful that they would pick even that up," he said.

"Yeah, I saw that on Big Brother—that you can't get away with whispering," she acknowledged. "What is it, Louis?"

"Well, if this doesn't work out . . . well, you know what I mean. If it doesn't work between us, then screw NBC. I mean it. I don't give a bloody damn. I didn't come here for . . . what I'm supposed to be here for. I just want us to have a good time—have fun together. I don't want you to feel obligated. I don't operate like that."

It was probably the sweetest thing he could have said, and her heart fluttered with warmth. She composed herself before she spoke.

"I was thinking along the same lines. They did tell me that NBC would not hold us to it," said Tawny.

"They told me that too, and I hope they meant it, because, while it might be a good idea for a new show, it gets me right up the cuff."

When he saw she didn't know what he meant, he explained. "It annoys me."

"Yeah, it bothers me too. It's not . . . _natural._ Hey, want to know something funny?" she was really beginning to enjoy their conversation. "I don't normally go for guys with tattoos."

"I probably wouldn't have as many if it weren't for Harry. He got me into it –not by prodding me to get any, but for some reason, I liked them more when I saw them on Harry. So what's the _real_ reason you haven't you been dating more?" he asked quickly, changing the subject as if he had blundered by mentioning Harry.

"Oh, I wasn't lying when I said it never works out. I got tired of playing games."

"Yeah, I understand that, and I didn't think you lied, but _why_ doesn't it work out?"

Tawny shifted and looked away from those piercing blue eyes uncomfortably. "I think I just haven't found the right one yet. No one has lit a fire in me, or they like to run around with every floozy in town, and expect me to be one of them. That's not my idea of a good time." She was surprised that she was being so open with him. He was simply so _easy_ to be open with.

He nodded. "Things are a little different with me. The trouble with being on tour is that most all of the fans are younger than me. I can be out of control onstage, but I'm just having fun. I pull pranks on the other lads all the time too. But I don't like inmaturity on a regular basis. Not when I'm dating. I like jokes and laughs, no doubt, and everybody knows it, but I like to be able to have a mature, intelligent conversation too, like I'm having with you. With young girls that isn't usually possible."

 _This guy was splendid._ He was miles better in person than she had thought he'd be. Eye candy he was, for sure. But he also had a mind to go with it.

"I quite like you. We get along, you and me," he said. "So let's give it a go. We're gonna rock!" She had to laugh at his enthusiasm. Now she knew for sure that the Louis she'd seen so many times on a screen was the real Louis. He didn't put on an act for anyone, apparently.

"You've never been married?" he asked.

"No."

"No kids either?"

"Nope. I did live with a guy for a while, but, as usual, it didn't work out."

This brought on a brief interval of silence, but as before, Louis rallied.

"This is right good," he said of his strawberry ice cream.

"So's mine," Tawny agreed, although, like with the appetizer, she could hardly taste it because of how ruthlessly he distracted her. _He had no idea._

"You know, you don't look anywhere near forty-six, but even if you did, I'd like you just as much."

"Thank you, but remember, you haven't seen me in full light."

"Well, can I? Maybe later?" She couldn't even look at him. Who could resist that deceivingly innocent looking face? Who could say no to him?

"Maybe. We'll see."

A few moments later, her skin prickled and she realized he was staring at her.

"What?" she asked, feeling scrutinized.

"I was just wondering, yet again, why you entered that drawing. The _real_ story." So, he hadn't bought the stuff about her liking his energy and his sense of humor. He sure loved to take things apart and examine them. But it showed he was truly interested in what she thought. He also had her cornered.

"I didn't think I had a chance in hell of winning. So it was mostly for the heck of it."

"You said _mostly."_

Oh, she had to watch this one. He was right on top of whatever she said. In fact, she got the impression he was always a step ahead of her. Disconcerting, to say the least. She had to keep her eyes wide open, and be extra vigilant with him.

"Well, also the . . . attraction," she practically had to spit that word out. It almost sounded indecent, considering their age difference. She didn't say what she was _really_ thinking, and thank goodness, as she was pretty sure he wouldn't ask for details. Not about _that_. The fact was, every time she saw a photo of him, she wondered what it would be like to run her hands and fingers over his skin, his strong jawline, through his hair, to trace the ink of his tattoos, feel his body heat. She thought she just might be happy forever if she could do just those few things.

He was jolted, but didn't let on. She had drifted off again anyway, lost in her steamy thoughts.

"You're becoming opaque, you are. A little murky. I need more transparency," she loved the intensity in his voice, which had unexpectedly dropped to the sweetest whisper . . .


	4. Chapter 4

Well, you couldn't skate around the issue. Even though he hadn't asked directly, he unmistakably wanted a clearer definition of what she meant by being attracted to him. Was he wondering if she was attracted to his cuteness, as in if he were a little boy, or as a handsome grown man? She felt it must be obvious enough . . . but he did deserve to know just what kind of attraction it was with no elusiveness. She did owe him that. He would undoubtedly tailor his behavior based on her answer. She did love that he was being a gentleman about it. She was a sucker for a gentleman.

"I feel like I'm an old lady looking to corrupt a sweet young thing," she said, letting the laughter dance in her eyes, acting as if she were mostly joking in order to cover up her embarrassment. Well, now she'd been derogatory and disparaging toward herself. But at least her attraction was so transparent now as to be self-evident.

There went his fascinated, absorbed look again. "I told you, you don't look old. So, you really do like younger guys?" he asked.

"Not normally, no. I have always preferred guys close to my own age. But you . . . well, I guess you're the exception. You and the Monkees," she giggled.

He nodded sagely. "I love the song, 'I'm a Believer.'

Well, at least he was familiar with that song, which most guys his age, she suspected, wouldn't be.

"I bet it was Davy, too." He shocked her to the core with that one. How did he know? Probably because almost all the girls back in the day went for Davy. It was kind of a no-brainer, even though Louis was a few generations separated from it.

"You're right. But why did you just assume it was him?" she asked, more curious about his point of view than anything. She wanted to get into his head.

"Because he has some things in common with me. Bold, a little flamboyant, and not the best voice in the group."

She thought her heart would break. "That's not true of either one of you!" she cried. "You both have very pure, unique voices." She didn't want to bring up the fact that she felt that Louis didn't have much confidence in his voice. "But yeah, the boldness and flamboyance, I have to agree with."

"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment."

She nodded eagerly, letting him know that was just how she meant it.

"It's interesting that Davy was a natural baritone, even though they forced him to sing outside his natural range, thinking tenor fit him better, with him being so short, and also playing the part of someone a few years younger than he was. I'm a light lyric tenor, and Harry, for instance, is a dramatic baritone, now that he's older. The 'dramatic' part of it tells the story. His voice is strong and a lot deeper than mine. Harry is great with runs and ad-libs, like Zayn. He's super talented. His gruffness just adds to an already awesome voice."

Well, somehow he'd diverted the conversation from the Monkees to Harry. It also didn't get past her how he seemed to mention Harry more than all the others put together.

He'd done his homework on Davy though. She wondered if he were that knowledgeable about other singers. Her assessment of him just kept climbing.

"Yes, Harry sounds great, but no one else has a voice like you. It's one of the very first things I noticed about you. I love that "crack" you have, and how raspy and raw you can get. Your voice is totally unlike any of the others."

For the first time, Tawny saw that he was blushing. Even in the dim light, the color was spreading across his cheeks.

"Unfortunately, cigarettes help with the voice crack." She knew this, but didn't want to mention it because she figured he already had more than enough people nagging him about it.

"Yeah. You totally take ownership of the chorus in so many of the songs. My favorite is "No Control," and although I love the beat of that song anyway, your voice just dominates the chorus." She had to get that in, because she wanted him to know how much she cherished his unusual voice. "And," she added for good measure, "You better not _ever_ try to emulate anyone else. I wouldn't want you to change an iota."

Suddenly, this bold, talkative One Direction lad with a million facial expressions was speechless.

"Um, mind if I go outside for a cigarette?" he asked a moment later. He was flustered! She was amazed. She had confounded Louis so much that he couldn't continue the conversation! Yes, he must be sensitive about his voice, and the compliments had thrown him for a loop.

"Sure, no problem. But what about your body guards?"

"They gave me a walkie talkie thingie." He took a small contraption out of his t-shirt pocket and talked into it.

"Marco, I'm comin' out for a fag."

 _What? What was he talking about?_

Louis punched a button on the walkie-talkie and saw Tawny's dumbfounded look. Then it dawned on him.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot. I didn't say what you thought I did. A fag is a cigarette in the U.K," he explained.

She nodded, and he went out the back door so he would be less likely to be seen by neighbors, even though it was dark.

For a minute there, all Tawny could think about was Louis and Harry when he'd said the word "fag." Now she felt ashamed. But it hadn't been conscious on her part—it had just come to her mind naturally. What if the rumors weren't even true? She was pretty sure they were though, after hearing Harry admit his first crush had been Louis, admitting they were dating, whether he was kidding or not, along with all the touching the two of them did, not to mention how possessive they were of each other. There were even pictures of them holding hands.

She wondered, if it _were_ really true, how Harry was able to tolerate having Louis coming over to her house? But . . . Louis had said they both had a liking for older women, so she concluded they must be bi. She had no doubt though, that they were each other's main squeeze, at the least. She wasn't going to press for information, but she also sure wouldn't stop Louis if he got the notion to tell her about it.

A moment later, the body guard affirmed Louis' wish to go outside. Tawny watched from her rear window as Louis smoked and small talked with the two men, who were constantly scanning the periphery of her yard, even her roof as if they expected dozens of fans to magically appear at any time. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that it had happened before—it only took a few seconds of lapsed concentration for fans to sneak up on celebrities. These guys were going to make certain it didn't happen.

Louis looked almost insidious to her as he stood there, as if he was danger that was creeping up on her in a subtle, mysterious way. He also looked carelessly casual. How he blended the two, she had no idea. She was afraid though, that he was getting to her. Sometimes referred to as "the rogue" because of the band he'd played in at the age of fourteen with that name, she had to agree that he gave off a kind of rogue vibe as she watched on. He definitely stirred up mischief in the band, and although it was in fun, maybe in other areas of his life as well . . .

Looking at his profile by the light of his cigarette, he was perfect.

 _God, he's gorgeous._

His face was chiseled. This "little shit," as she'd heard Liam call him affectionately on stage was a sex god! Harry must surely have a frightful passion for him. She did already. He'd won her over disturbingly quickly. She felt a painful ache for Harry in her heart, hoping Louis wouldn't ever hurt him. Yeah, if it was true they had something together, than Harry was lucky indeed.

When he finished his cigarette, he crushed it under his heel. He did this so fluidly that she didn't doubt he'd been smoking for more than a short time. She hated to admit it, because it was a dangerous habit, but he looked terribly sexy when he smoked. Oh Lord, she was losing it!

When he re-entered her house after picking up the butt and dousing it with water from her hose, then burying it with the toe of his shoe and his fingers, she teased him by calling out to him.

"Luigi, is that you?" He laughed. "You're working your way through all of me nicknames, are you?"

"Yes, Pepito." She was glad when he laughed. She liked that she could amuse him. "My very favorite though," she admitted," is Boo Bear."

"Girls like that nickname, for some reason."

"Because you _look_ like a Boo-Bear. Let's talk about the band now. Are you really the mischief maker?"

"Yeah," he readily admitted. "I love pranks, jokes, escapades and antics."

"Do you really have the energy you exude on stage, in your normal life?"

"Well, sometimes I'm rambunctious, and especially random. But we all get tired with our busy schedule too. The exception seems to be Niall. He's always 'up.'"

They were sitting on the couch, and she saw his eyes flick down to her legs, but she couldn't catch him in the act. He was that quick. This was the first time she'd seen him look at her like that. His eyes glimmered with something she couldn't put a name to, and she knew he was thinking about being playful.

"For some reason," he said, "Niall laughs at me jokes, and it's difficult to rein meself in when he's expecting more. So sometimes I really don't know when to stop. Niall has a way of boosting me ego."

"I can imagine that," she said.

"Niall is always happy, always hungry, and he can jump four feet in the air effortlessly, even whilst playing the guitar. He's eternally optimistic. A cheerful lad, and he continues on until well after midnight, when the rest of us are sleepy. Now Liam, he was a sickly child, and only has one functioning kidney. A lot of good in him, and very easy going and easy to get on with. Harry is . . . " he hesitated, and looked as if he were measuring his words, and Tawny was extra eager to hear this part.

"Harry is a walking heart. So generous, so grateful to the fans, so polite. And he's dreadful at hiding his emotions. He cries at sad movies, he has more patience than anyone I know. Me sore spot is paparazzi. I've been known to lose it and start swearing. They are truly are unshakable. But Harry is nice even to _them,_ the bulk of the time.

Compared to mild, easy going Harry, I'm hot-headed. But believe it or not, if you make Harry really mad, he yells. And he yells _loudly,_ like he sings. As loudly as he sings the echo in "Drag Me Down." He liked to break me eardrums. But it takes a lot to get him to that point. But they're good lads, the lot of them," he summed it up.

"You seem to be a bit of a rebel," said Tawny. "And Harry seems like he goes along pretty much with everything."

"True. They say opposites attract though."

"So you're attracted to each other?" He'd brought the subject up, so she figured she might as well take the ball and run with it, as this chance might not present itself again.

He deflected her by changing the subject. "So, I heard they were bringing champagne," he said with a glitter in his eye.

"They did indeed. And it's in an ice chest in the hallway. Let me go get it." She was glad he'd brought it up and she hadn't had to, because, for some reason, even the thought of it made her feel slightly naughty.

"No, I'll fetch it," and he was on his feet, retrieving it and taking a bottle into the kitchen to uncork it.

"I'm guessing you aren't opposed to liquor?" he asked.

"No, no I'm not. But- " She didn't know how to say it.

"I won't even uncork it if it bothers you. I know that this kind of thing makes women nervous—a man, and liquor . . ."

"No, Louis. I trust you. Maybe I'm just . . . a little uncomfortable with the idea. You know what I'm getting at?"

"I have no intention of getting you drunk, if that's what you fear. I just thought a little celebration was in order. This is supposed to be _fun_ after all, right?"

Her whole body shuddered slightly. As if she were a dog trying to shake something unpleasant away. But this wasn't unpleasant at all. It was just awkward.

"Of course! Of course it's supposed to be fun. I'm getting embarrassed way too easily. You'd think, at my age, I'd be past all that. I should be able to handle it much more gracefully. Of course! Go ahead and uncork it!" Her smile let Louis know that what she said was genuine, and straight from the heart.

He smiled too, and expertly uncorked the bottle with hardly any fizzing.

"How are you so good at that?" she asked.

"Oh, the lads and I . . . we've had occasions to celebrate."

Of course they had! Everything from X Factor to their albums to all the music awards they'd won. They should be well acquainted with handling champagne.

Louis was a perfect gentleman as he poured her glass first, then his own, and carried them into the living room, presenting her glass to her with a flourish. After his toast of simply "To us," he took his first sip, and immediately said,

"Now, that's what I'm talkin' about!" Tawny laughed. It reminded her of the video where Louis said the same thing after he slapped Harry's crotch. Harry had bent over in pain. She hoped it had been pre-planned to look like that, and that he wouldn't ever really do that to Harry. But who knew? Those boys could get pretty wild. Harry didn't seem to hold it against Louis though. They all took painful or unfortunate incidents pretty much in stride.

Tawny had come to the conclusion early on that, despite his sometimes intractable ways, Louis really was a good guy, with the best of intentions. The charities he supported were testimony to that.

"Well, I'm sat here, drinking champagne with me sweet Tawny, and waiting to hear what you look for in a man."

This came out of left field, and she was totally unprepared for it. Was the room shrinking? She knew it wasn't the champagne, as she'd only had one sip. It was the question he'd asked her. He was _exactly_ what she looked for in a guy, only much younger, but did he know that?

"A sense of humor is one of the most important things, along with being a gentleman, honesty, and integrity." She'd said the first things that had come out of her mouth, and it had been pretty accurate, much to her surprise. "All traits you possess," her boldness had just sprung forth, and she didn't know whether to smile or not, so she went for the default, and smiled.

Once again, Louis was mute. That was the second time so far! Who would have known she'd have the power to stop Louis Tomlinson from talking? That required skill! He was the king of small talk and sarcasm. In spite of herself, she felt pretty proud of her achievement. He was smiling also, while looking on the pensive side.

"What do you look for in a woman?" She threw it right back at him. The look on Louis' face was priceless. She would have sworn she'd asked him something really outlandish. And then she wondered if Harry had anything to do with it . . .

"Um . . . sweetness, openness, and also, not to copy you, but a sense of humor is essential. All qualities that _you_ possess."

Okay, he'd gotten her back. He sat there, looking a little cocky, satisfied as a cat in a warm sunny windowsill. Her heart contracted with affection for this guy she'd loved for quite a while, not even having met him until tonight.

The flush of desire rushed over her. If there had ever been any doubt, it was gone now, because he aroused her, plain and simple. He ignited the affection as well as the passion in her. And the best part was that it wasn't just that he was smoking hot. It was his spunk, his great sense of humor, his goofiness, his thoughtfulness.

The champagne burned a little going down. How long had it been since she'd had champagne? Not since her mother had moved to Arizona a few years ago, and Tawny had celebrated with her the day she had moved in. They'd been putting her mother's things away all day, and had decided to share a bottle of champagne that night.

Tawny hadn't wanted her mother to move, but allergies had made it necessary. The dry heat of Arizona and sparse vegetation made allergies less prominent for a lot of people, so on the doctor's advice, her mother had found a house and bought it. Tawny had helped her to pick it out. It was perfect—two bedrooms, living room an eat-in kitchen, with a very small, neat yard for her mother's roses and Chihuahua. The extra bedroom would be for the occasional guest. It was perfect. She was only six hours away from Tawny, who lived in San Diego, but still . . . Tawny had never lived further away than a twenty minute drive from her mother in her life. Her mother was in her late sixties, and Tawny was her only child.

Louis interrupted Tawny's thoughts. "Tell me about your family," he said as if he'd known what she was thinking about.

"Oh, there's just my mother. I'm an only child. I was thinking about the last time I had champagne, and that was when my mother moved into her new home in Arizona." She then explained the allergies.

"Does it bother you, having her in another state?"

"Yeah, it does, at times. I couldn't get to her fast if something should ever happen. But I bet it's a lot worse for you, with your family being in the U.K."

"I'm getting used to it. I go back and forth, so it's not so bad. I have five sisters and a brother, but I guess you already know that."

She nodded. "Your father?" he asked.

"They divorced when I was young, and she never remarried."

"Same here, divorced when I was young, but me mother _did_ get remarried, hence the half-siblings."

This brought on some quiet reflection as they sipped from their glasses.

"I've wondered about something . . ." Tawny was getting a little more brazen now that she'd halfway finished her glass of champagne. He raised his eyebrows and waited.

"Why, when onstage, do you douse Niall and Liam in water, but never Harry?"

Louis' eyes instantly glazed, a dreamy look in their bright blue depths. He always seemed to adopt this look when he spoke of Harry. His features also partially closed up, as if he were consciously or subconsciously protecting something. This really piqued her interest. It was something she wanted to delve into. But only if Louis were willing, of course.

"Well, I _have_ doused Harry, but not often. For some reason, Liam and Niall are fair game, although not when Niall has his guitar, of course, but Harry I hold in high regard. Wait . . . that sounded daft. I hold Liam and Niall in high regard too, but with Harry, it's . . . just . . . different. I'd hate to soak his beautiful curls," Louis had a sly look now, and she wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "He's too majestic," he added. "Too perfect."

She knew already how much Louis was taken with Harry's curls because he'd mentioned them often in interviews. Touched and caressed them too. He'd even tweeted about them, and how they seduced him. She wasn't sure if that had been in jest though. It was somehow very touching that Louis didn't want to soak Harry, his dignity, and his curls. And Harry _did_ have a measure of dignity about him that really did defy explanation. He was somehow regal. _Prince Harry,_ he'd been referred to, and she could see why. He was avant-guard and one of a kind. Tawny could tell that, and she'd never even met him.

 _Does the little one with the cheekbones know the prince is in love with him?_

After their first glass of champagne, Tawny was feeling relaxed at last. It was such a relief, after having her guard up for the last hour or so that Louis had been there. Why she was leery at all was a mystery. Louis had two body guards right outside that would come running in an instant if she screamed. Yet, she was not afraid Louis would try to take sexual advantage of her. Not for a second. What she was afraid of was his very strong personality. Her personality couldn't begin to match it. That was just the way he was, though. She shouldn't feel intimidated by it. Perhaps she was afraid she wouldn't have the intellect required to present a challenge for him. Someone who would banter intelligently with him is what he needed, and she bet Harry could do that easily. Even though Harry had that slow, languid way of speaking, he was no slacker in the brains department.

"Yeah, those curls are something, aren't they?"

"They are. I find meself wanting to run me hands through them," then, as if he'd said something forbidden, Louis backpedaled quickly. "My hair is straight, that's the only reason I admire his hair so much."

 _Nice try, Louis. You didn't convince me though._

"Bugger! There's desserts in there!" Louis headed to the kitchen again. He _had_ to be kidding. He'd had a load of appetizers and a big bowl of ice cream. Nevertheless, he returned with a handful of brownies.

"I just want to feed you again," he confessed, executing his famous wink.

 _This was getting personal._

But suddenly, she didn't care. The slight buzz from the champagne was just enough for her to allow him to feed her a brownie without blushing. She was finally loosening up, and enjoying the hell out of it. She'd been missing out on so much in life . . . funny how the champagne made her realize that.

He fed her slowly and sweetly, smiling when she took the brownie with her teeth, then nibbled his finger. She didn't do it in a suggestive way, but more with a humorous lean. Something Louis himself would do when playing around. She wasn't good with flirting unless she'd had a boyfriend for a while and felt more secure. She supposed she was afraid of rejection.

When the brownies had been eaten, he pinched her cheek and giggled. She soon found out how unpredictable he really was. He suddenly jumped up and grabbed her phone off the coffee table, acting as if he were going to investigate it. But investigate what? She had nothing to hide. No risque photos, not even any guy's numbers in her contacts. She was pitiful.

She decided to pretend it bothered her that he had her phone, and made a dive for it. He held it over his head, behind his back, whatever he had to do to keep it away from her. They scrambled around the living room for a couple of minutes until Louis purposely fell down onto his back on the floor, the phone clutched tightly to his chest. In trying to snatch it away, she got her feet tangled up somehow and fell on top of him, both of them laughing all the while.

They continued to wrestle, and in a flash, she felt how hard and fit his body was, forgetting completely about her phone. She stilled, and suddenly his features took on a serious element. Their eyes locked. Tawny felt as if the earth was suspended for a moment, balancing precariously. Would everything come tumbling down?

Her breath was stolen in the next moment. Louis grabbed her hair and tugged it gently, pulling her face down to his. His lips sought hers, and the moment they made contact, Tawny changed inside. This was no slow burn of desire as it had been just moments ago. This was almost ferocious, even though he was gentle and smooth. His kiss was quick and easy—just a touch of lips really, and she was pretty sure he was trying to make it seem casual to soothe her nerves. It was anything but. Just that one, light, quick kiss was enough to send her hormones into high gear.

A second later, "I confess. I cheated," he said to break the silence, she supposed. "I tripped you."

"That's why my feet got all discombobulated!" She was so grateful to him for telling her. It not only broke through the awkward silence, but it explained why she'd fallen so clumsily.

"When you are used to being around other young lads, you have to learn the tricks of the trade. Either outwit the other guy, or you get the worst of it. Guys are unremitting. So I learned several ways to trip a person early on."

"Well, at least I know it wasn't the champagne sneaking up on me," she said.

"No, I'm the guilty party. I have to say something though," they were still lying on the floor, Tawny half on top of him, scared to move, afraid she'd lose the body contact.

 _Scared they'd get closer, and scared they'd separate._

She waited for what he had to say.

Louis reached over and set her phone back down on the coffee table, not moving from his position underneath her.

"I thought this date would be very different. I never thought I'd fancy you this much, and that I'd kind of just go through the motions." He dropped his gaze for a second. "That sounded bad, I didn't mean it _that_ way. But anyway, But you're not at all what I expected. You're fun and sweet. You're spontaneous. You're an awful lot like Harry . . ."

.


	5. Chapter 5

_What had he just said?_

She knew all too well what he'd said—"You're a lot like Harry." It practically threw her into shock. Truth be told, she was flattered—immensely flattered. From what she understood, Harry was one of the sweetest, most polite and humble people on the face of the earth.

But the fact remained that Louis was literally giving himself away. Was he trying to tell her about himself and Harry without verbalizing it out loud? Surely he knew she wasn't dumb. Neither were the millions of people who would surely be watching the show when it aired. He was stopping just short of saying it for all the world to hear. She was still trying to process it when he spoke.

"And I meant it when I said I quite like you. Do you like to cuddle?"

He didn't elaborate on what _cuddling_ meant, but she took it at face value, and nodded.

"I love it." Her heart picked up the pace until it was pounding, pumping blood furiously through her veins.

"Well then, snuggle in closer." She couldn't have been a whole lot closer physically to him than she already was, hovering over him after that kiss, but she closed that last bit of a gap and laid down on his chest, slipping her arms around his waist. His arms came up and around her shoulders.

Those damn cameras! She'd _almost_ forgotten about them. What if her dress was riding up? Well, of course they would edit it out. But that wouldn't stop the editors from seeing it! This was seriously hampering everything she did. And certainly killing the romance. But she knew she had to block the thought of the cameras out, or she'd sabotage this precious little time she had alone with Louis . . . something she'd never be able to do over.

Slowly, the champagne was helping her to do just that. True to his word, Louis had not pushed any more champagne on her. He simply wanted to cuddle, and that seemed to be the only thing on his mind. They snuggled and hugged as they lay there, her head resting on his chest, acutely aware of his proximity, how warm he was, how strong his body was. That hidden power that didn't show itself to the world until he wanted it to. It was all there in that compact, very competent body that could be so quick and agile. Ducking and swerving to avoid Liam's attempts to wet him down. That same body that had done somersaults onstage, hand stands, and had taken numerous falls, not to mention the football and soccer that were also a big part of his life. That same stealthy muscling that was enclosing her right now.

"I don't even remember the last time I cuddled with a guy," she said a few minutes later. "If I ever did."

"Didn't your dates like to cuddle?" he sounded surprised, almost disbelieving.

"No, in fact, now that I think back, I've never _had_ a cuddler. I didn't know guys could be this affectionate."

"Maybe I'm the exception, but cuddling, to me, is essential if you really fancy someone."

"If a guy got the slightest bit affectionate, it was always to get something else going," she said, surprising herself with her growing lack of shyness. He made her feel so at ease.

"Oh, I don't come on strong. But right now, I admit I do wish I could figure out a way to stop time."

This remark made her gasp slightly, caused her head to spin, her palms to sweat and her breathing to accelerate.

"Have you ever wished for an endless night . . . " Louis said almost dreamily, and she vaguely remembered those words being lyrics to a song. By Pink, she thought it was. She wondered if he were addressing it to the two of them, and their situation.

But then, being predictably unpredictable, he did an about turn. "Still, clearly defined boundaries are required, TV show or not."

Now, she had thought _she_ would be the one to make a statement like that—not _him!_ She knew it was his way of reassuring her that _nothing was required._ His words worked magic, as they took a huge burden off her. Nothing was expected of her. He would hold her to absolutely nothing. She already knew the words were spoken truthfully, as he just lay there quietly, making no effort to paw her, to take things any further.

"I love watching your antics onstage, but know what I love almost as much? Niall's reaction to you. He finds you highly amusing. His laugh is so contagious, and the little gasp he does in the midst of the laughing . . . I cannot watch you and Niall interacting and laughing without laughing myself. It's not possible."

"Yeah, Niall's a crack-up. He's a bubbly lad if there ever was one."

"I also loved your creativity when you went to the trouble to pour the contents of all those water bottles into a bucket to pour on Liam, but then you had to go and sing, and Liam rushed over, grabbed the bucket, and dumped it over your head."

"I deserved it," he laughed. "Me clever idea really backfired."

"Then the time you saved Harry from a spider onstage. That one had me rolling on the floor."

"Harry _had_ to be saved. He's terrified of spiders."

"Well, it was cute the way you protected him," she smiled with the memory.

"Then the tape on your mouth, and Harry ripping it off," she was on a roll and giggling now. "So silly, yet so entertaining!"

"That _really_ hurt!" said Louis, and he sounded just as he had on the video, only with a much lower volume.

"I also love how you sometimes change the lyrics and poor Niall is laughing so hard he can't even sing!"

Through no effort of his own, and unknowingly, Louis was stoking her fire. Talking like this made her feel closer to him. Feeling his chest heave a little when he laughed, his body heat right up against her. It was far sexier than any other move he could have made.

"My favorite scenes in videos by far were the Car Pool Karoake and the one where you were wearing a blindfold, and you crawled over the back of the couch everyone was sitting on, got on your hands and knees, somehow found the door, and slammed out of the room. So slapstick. Niall was in hysterics. You were always the one to go one step farther than the others. Another one has to be when you zipped up your onesie and Liam had to lead you around London because it was zipped clear up over your eyes and you refused to unzip it. Why did you do that?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"To be different, I guess. To be random, and to _live while I'm young."_ Okay, so these incidents were the genuine Louis. "It's the _story of me life._ Oh, and before I forget, when do I get to see you in full light?" he added with a slight, satisfied smirk.

 _Damn! Why couldn't he forget about that?_

"When do you want to?" She might as well give up and let him have his way, since it was clear he wasn't going to let up until she yielded.

"Not right now. I'm enjoying this too much." He'd surprised her again! "I think you'd be shocked at how well I really can see you," he remarked.

She pondered that for a moment. _It's true,_ she thought. _I can see him fairly clearly. If I can see him that well, he can surely see me just as well._ She still had awful scenes in her head of him being disgusted when he did finally see her in the light, and leaving in a disappointed huff, but somehow she knew that wouldn't happen. Even if he _did_ find her hideous looking, he was far too nice and considerate to end the date.

Oh a whim, she lifted her head and kissed his cheek. She was going to leave it at a very quick kiss and go back to laying her head on his chest, but when she got there, the feel of his slight stubble, and especially the sound of his breath hitching, kept her there. There was nothing like knowing, or suspecting, that he was enjoying it. It had to be the best feeling in the universe. Her lips traveled over his cheek, and down to his neck, where she continued to kiss. A dull, unrelenting, heavy ache began in her middle.

And then it happened. He moaned . . . he actually moaned. And it sounded husky and raw. She drew back, hardly able to restrain herself.

"I think you'd better see me in the light. I don't want to mislead you." What she meant was, she didn't want to be kissing his neck if he was going to consider her repulsive when not in semi-darkness.

"Oh, man! You bloody get me motor purring, and then you have to get up to turn on the light? Something's wrong with that. I think it's supposed to be the other way 'round. You turn off the light first, _then_ kiss me neck."

Despite her raging desire for him, she had to laugh. What a natural comedian he was!

"I promise I'll go right back to kissing your neck. But I feel it would be dishonest . . . I won't feel right about it until I know that _you know_ what I truly look like."

"Okay, okay. Me and me brilliant ideas about turning lights on," he grumbled as he pulled himself up, lifting her with him, to a sitting position.

She _had_ to do it now. She'd stopped a potential very romantic interlude to do something, and now she had to do it. She couldn't change her mind. She flung herself to her feet, her heart pounding in her ears, her face throbbing with a deep blush, and switched the living room light to normal brightness before the courage drained right out of her.

They stared at each other. Long seconds dragged by, neither one speaking, just gazing. She was just about to do something insane, like burst into tears, or run from the room because he hadn't said anything. She was thinking the worst. Like the light must be revealing even more wrinkles than he could see before, her crow's feet must really be popping out, the little bit of excess skin on her neck must be grossly visible.

After what seemed ages, he finally spoke.

"Massively lovely," he said as quietly as he would utter a prayer. She realized that when he used the word "massive," that he was truly serious, because the only time she'd heard the boys use it was when they were being anything but fake or artificial. The solemn look on his face confirmed it. Her heart swelled with gratitude and relief.

She flipped the light switch back to "dim" and walked back to him.

"You're not just saying that? I know you hold me to nothing, but the same goes for you. I don't expect anything from you either."

Understood," he nodded and pulled her back down next to him. "I love it when you blush luv," he said. "It's a weakness of mine."

"I half expected you to wear a striped shirt tonight," she said, trying to detour him from talking about the fact that she was prone to blushing.

"I don't wear them so much anymore. And by the way, the thing about me liking girls who eat carrots keeps getting brought up with fans, so just in case you were going to ask, I only made that up on the spur of the moment, and although I do like to eat them meself, I'm not ravenous for them. Just me, being r _andom_ , again."

She was a touch disappointed. "Well, I thought it was cute, and I kind of wish It had been real. So unusual for a guy to find carrots so interesting. I've also noticed your cuteness has turned mostly into handsomeness. You've lost that little boy look." She had to sneak that one in there.

"Being in 1D has helped to make a man of me, although I'll _never_ be completely grown up. I just don't have enough sophistication."

"Not true. Sophistication can get awfully boring. You're playful, and playful keeps a person young," she truly did believe that, too.

He was drawing nearer, pulling her down over his chest again. Resistance didn't even enter her mind. He kissed her again, and it made her tingle all over because it wasn't quick and casual this time.

It was slow, soft, and easy. She had expected it to be unrefined and rushed. She remembered that was how young boys were when she was Louis' age. But this . . . this was governed and purely unrushed. This had no coercion in it.

His lips moved over hers in a kind of melody without the music. He'd gotten excellent instruction somewhere along the way—he knew how to treat a woman. He knew how to touch one, how to communicate with one, how to make one laugh and feel good about being with him.

Kissing was all-important to Tawny. In fact, it was essential for her to feel anything for a man. A man who kissed clumsily or too roughly turned her off in a second. So did a man who didn't spend sufficient time kissing.

Louis was fulfilling her every dream in that department. Gentle, sweet, yet ardent. She soon found his kisses were never ending. She also discovered Louis fueled her desire like no other ever had. His warmth was seeping into her, his mouth making love to hers.

Instinct guided her. For one of the few times in her life, she wasn't fighting a man, or trying to distance herself enough to be able to breathe. She was interacting with him, being as one with him. Enjoying it, taking pleasure in it instead of feeling disappointed that things were going headlong out of control as had usually been the case before.

The romance, the smooth flow of it put no pressure on her. This was something she had craved for such a long time, and had finally given up on, believing it happened only in romance novels and movies.

He felt like some kind of narcotic rushing through her veins, clouding her thinking. His touch was hardly there, but enough for her to be aware of it. It drew her in, made her wonder what was next. There was only Louis and herself. Cameras, microphones, body guards at last all forgotten. She was spellbound, and there was no way she was going to try to fight her way out of his web. It was way beyond heady, and well into the range of intoxicating.

A slight sound was heard, and Louis looked toward the window. Tawny's eyes went to his profile and stuck there. No wonder Harry had called him handsome, and stared at him so much with a transfixed, love struck look in his eyes. Harry couldn't help it. And now _she_ couldn't help it.

"Just me body guard again. You're beautiful, you know. Wicked beautiful," he said when he turned his head back to her. She felt a gasp inside of her that wanted to burst out, but she somehow composed herself and quelled it.

"You're awfully easy on the eyes yourself. And you're incredibly loving."

"You might be seeing the compassionate, generous, cuddly side of me, but you don't know how sassy, cocky and obnoxious I can be. Harry can attest to the bitchy side of me."

Oh, she'd seen samples of his saucy, bitchy side, but it had done nothing to cool down her ardor. In fact, she thought it rather sexy. He didn't put on airs. He said what he was thinking and feeling. He wasn't afraid to speak up. And she really did prefer that to someone who acted condescending all the time.

"You're easy to talk to," he said. "I don't go for that many women, you know."

He still didn't seem to realize he continued to drop hints about his sexuality. She did believe he was attracted to her, however, simply because he was so honest and straightforward and therefore his actions spoke a lot louder than words. He was feeling passion, although she couldn't imagine him, or _anyone_ feeling the level of passion she was currently experiencing. She hadn't imploded yet, but he could detonate her with hardly any effort, if he decided to give it a try. She hoped he didn't. It was much too early for that. He wouldn't though, because he was a gentleman . . . she was getting to know him faster than she'd thought would ever be possible.

"I'm so buzzed to be here. Full-on buzzed," he said as his eyes blazed. It was not hard to pry his feelings out of him like with most men. She got the feeling he was pretty much an open book. Here he was, spilling bits and pieces of himself, unprompted. She could string those bits and pieces together and end up with a lot of information. It was fascinating to listen to. It reminded her of something she'd heard Harry say about Louis.

 _You can just sit and admire what he's like._

Yep, now she understood just what Harry meant.

"People don't realize that although I'm a cut-up, I am also very serious when I want to be." It seemed that Louis wanted her to see that he wasn't just the class clown. He had a sober, earnest side as well.

"I'm starting to see that," she said.

"Right now," he continued. "You are of paramount importance. I want you to feel easy and free with me. But again you're not a "right now" kind of girl. You're the kind of girl a guy treasures and holds close in his arms."

Wow. For some reason, it felt like this was getting deep.

Over the next few minutes, Louis slowly overpowered her. He pressed her down on the carpet, and it only served to fan the flame between them. His kisses became demanding, and somehow all of it put together made her feel like a wild, uninhibited woman.

His lips were insatiable, his breathing ragged. They were kissing with open lips now for the first time.

 _Holy crap. How horny could you get?_

She felt like a junior high school kid, making out with a guy for the first time. Only this was better. Leagues and leagues better.

He tore his lips away from hers long enough to say, "Are you glad I came 'round?"

"Yes," she said once she had her breath back. "You know . . . I've lusted after you for the longest time, and this is pretty surreal to me." She chastised herself inwardly. She hadn't wanted to admit that.

But Louis looked gratified at her words. All she wanted, all she _needed,_ was more attention from his lips. If she didn't get it, she'd surely perish. So she shocked herself by pulling his head down again to catch his lips with her own. That was something she'd _never_ done before. That's when she heard it again, coming from his throat. A groan . . . it was gutteral and it sounded untamed, feral. Something warm clamped up inside of her again. Desire . . . hot, searing desire.

"I'm losing me chill," he admited. "Massively losing it."

"I don't want you chilled," she said breathlessly. "I like you warm, just like you are."

When he came up for a breather after a kiss that had lasted longer than forever, she struggled to appear in control even though she was more out of control than she'd ever been. "Don't the cameras bother you?" she croaked.

He shook his head. "We had cameras on us all the time during the X-factor days. After a while you learn to not even think about them anymore."

"And do you know," he said softly. "There's glitter in the air." She didn't know quite how to take that except that it sounded ridiculously romantic. And she was a sucker for romance . . .


	6. Chapter 6

_Glitter in the air._

What a lovely thing for him to say. If this was glitter, then glitter was a _very_ good thing. She liked the sound of it, and the mental image it brought.

Now, Tawny had to think of a way to make this last forever. Never get up to eat, drink or go to the bathroom. For the limited time he would be with her, she couldn't let anything break the spell, as she was afraid it would break _her._

 _How did she get herself into this crazy situation with a twenty-four year old boy?_ But wait . . . he _wasn't_ a boy. Not any longer. That X-Factor auditioner had been a boy, but this person, here, with her now, was a man. He had been only eighteen back then. Now, six years later, he was no longer that nervous, almost timid youngster waiting with bated breath for Simon's approval. Now he was no longer meek and unsure. He'd matured into a fine specimen indeed. It was really just the age difference between them that bothered her, that was all. And it was what kept her in the clutches of guilt. But why? Why did she feel guilty when he'd already admitted that he found her appealing? What was so wrong with it? She'd have to examine her feelings at another time, because right now he was making anything but focusing on him impossible.

He was tender, and he was pulling her under. She was coming apart, piece by piece. His lips were tempting, coaxing, doing things that lips weren't supposed to be capable of doing. How could lips against your lips, make you feel like you were being made love to?

"Your mother named you well," his voice broke through the romantic mist she'd allowed herself to drift into between kisses.

"What?"

"Your name—Tawny. It's the color of your hair," he murmured as he threaded his fingers through the gentle waves that draped down over his chest.

"All right, Chop Suey. Stop embarrassing me."

"I think you've covered most, if not all me nicknames now," he sighed, mimicking weariness, but a smile played around the corners of his lips. "Sorry, but I have to get up," he said as he squirmed out from under her. Her mouth opened in a silent protest.

"Why?" she asked, disappointment flooding her.

"If you must know," and he cupped his hand to her ear, "I have to have a wee. Where is your loo?" This struck her as comical, not only because of the way he'd worded it, but also because she'd just been thinking about wishing they'd never have to get up, not even to go to the bathroom.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't give you a tour of the house, although you could hardly get lost in it. Down the hall, second door on the right."

"Brilliant, luv. I'll be right back."

She was glad he was gone, because she was having trouble choking down a laugh. _Have a wee._ She'd heard Harry use that term too, so it must be common in the U.K.

She wished he'd never leave. Or that at least they could develop a relationship. But alas, they wouldn't have time to, even if he wanted it. Not in just twelve hours.

 _This was just a one-night stand. But she could pretend, couldn't she?_

And a one-night stand was exactly what NBC wanted it to be, even though they'd _called_ it a "date." How could you call it a date anyway, when they had to stay in the house for the entire time? Not that she was complaining. . .

She'd never been with a guy sexually in that little time. She felt cheated, although at the same time she realized how fortunate she was to be able to spend any time at all with him, even kiss him . . . when so many girls had entered that drawing and had not won. Sadly, as tempting as it was, she couldn't have a one-night stand with him. It was too quick—she needed to build a relationship first before even giving something like that a second thought. If only they had at least two weeks . . . yeah, she could dream.

He was back. She'd heard the water in the sink running. _Good—he washed his hands after peeing!_ She bet at least fifty percent of guys didn't.

"Crab bites," he said, detouring to the kitchen and bringing a couple of them into the living room.

"Niall's appetite must be contagious," she teased.

"I think _you're_ affecting me appetite, and for more than just food."

Well, that was a first! He hadn't made any suggestive remarks up until now, so it caught her by surprise. Now she was not only embarrassed, but, if it was possible, even more turned on. He had actually dropped a wonderfully sexy hint, but without insulting her or making her feel sleazy. He inserted a crab bite into her mouth. His fingers, on their way out, brushed against her lower lip ever so slightly. Such a subtle move, yet so sensual. She wanted to lick his finger, but couldn't summon the nerve. At the same time, her desire shot through the ceiling. The tingles went from her lips to her breasts and then straight down . . .

Louie popped a mint into his mouth that had been arranged along the outer edge of one of the appetizer trays.

"Not gonna let you accuse me of crab breath," he said, waggling his eyebrows. She grabbed a mint too, as he'd deposited a handful of them on the coffee table, and the kissing commenced once again. Fantastic, minty, sultry kisses.

They couldn't continue on this way, because her passion was building steadily and she was afraid she'd humiliate herself by throwing herself at him. It was a majorly tough job to fight back the gasps, the moans, that were clogged up in her throat, begging to be released. She didn't believe she'd ever felt sexual desire like this in all her forty-six years.

Breathing heavily because she couldn't help it, Tawny cleared her throat when there was a brief lull between kisses. The problem was, the lulls were _too_ brief. So brief that she never had a chance to collect herself and regain control. Louis was ruining her, and it was deathly frightening.

"We have to slow down," she said, adding a pleading note to her voice to make sure the significance reached him. A horny guy was often just about deaf and blind, surging forward without self-discipline.

Louis, however, stopped immediately, an apologetic, almost regretful look on his face. He lowered his eyes and those long eyelashes liquified her. He couldn't possibly know what he was doing to her with just about every gesture he made, large or small.

"Tawny, I'm sorry. I am, truly, attracted to you, and when you responded as you did, I thought it was alright. But of course it's not—we've only just met a couple of hours ago. It was thoughtless of me."

Now she almost wished she hadn't said anything. Those kisses had been so addictive that she was already suffering from withdrawals, and it had only been _seconds_ since his lips had left hers. She craved the warmth of the drug his lips brought her. She wondered if she could even wait another second . . .

"I told you I didn't come on strong, and then I made a liar of meself. I was too aggressive almost straight away . . . well, after we'd talked a bit. It was too fast."

"And I like it. I like it almost _too_ much. That's why I said we should slow down. I'm just as guilty as you are."

The wheels were spinning in Louis' head. This girl was different. She had no idea what he was thinking, and thank God for that. She was stealing his capacity for rational thought. He was acting more on instinct than he should be.

And she thought she looked old? Or even close to her actual age? He'd lied when he'd said she was lovely. Lovely sounded so empty and frivolous compared to what she really was. He supposed there wasn't a proper single word to describe her, as she was really so many things. Soft, feminine, sweet and gorgeous—both inside and out. And she had depth. There was no room for shallowness in her.

And as for Tawny herself, she was enchanted with the fact that his touches were mere whispers. She didn't know it, but Harry had taught him that. Hummingbird wing touches was how Harry described them. They were designed to bring out true sensuality, and they were very effective.

What she didn't know was that the touches Louis and Harry shared were bursting with a quiet kind of love. Louis had tried to share hummingbird wing touches with her, but he saw now that he had spooked her, and even though she claimed she liked it, he wasn't quite convinced. A gentleman didn't let his hormones rule him. Not at this early stage, at any rate.

She loved his humor, and while it was hard to resist, his natural sensuality was _impossible_ to resist. Not if you were alive and made of flesh and blood.

In the next few minutes, Tawny sensed a change in him. Louis was becoming a bit absent-minded and restless. He seemed to be hanging on to the notion that he'd turned her off. Or maybe it was something else. Okay, so maybe he had decided he didn't like her after all. He had a dubious look on his face, and she wished she knew him better so she would have a better chance of making a diagnosis. If she'd somehow changed his mind about her, it would gut her.

"I reckon we should talk more. I'm chuffed about being here, but you need to feel relaxed with me, and I need to say . . . a few things." He tried to explain himself. You rarely heard Louis sputter, but it was happening now. "I . . . um . . . need to highjack this date in the . . . _loo."_

He'd tried to say that last word quietly, but the fact was they both knew the microphones would register it anyway.

 _The bathroom? Why would they go into the bathroom?_

And then she admonished herself inwardly for being obtuse. She should have thought of it before—the bathroom was the only room in the house she and Louis had been promised would harbor no cameras and no mics.

He must have something pretty noteworthy to say to her. Luckily, she thought with a smile, she had a large bathroom. There was plenty of room for them to lounge on the floor without being cramped. She started grabbing pillows, cushions from the couch and blankets to make their experience more comfortable. What would the producers think? Like Louis had said, _screw them!_

The moment they'd settled on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, sitting side by side on cushions, comfortable and propped up against the wall with pillows, Louis didn't waste any time—he went right into action.

"This will do very nicely—it's spacey," he said, and with no further preamble, he plunged into his speech.

"I wanted . . . God, how I wanted, to stay in there with you, the way we were, but I couldn't do it in good conscience."

"Oh?"

"I had to talk to you privately, because I couldn't talk openly, not in front of the cameras." He looked so serious, that she wondered if what he had to divulge was going to be earthshaking.

The goofball he'd been not long ago had completely vanished. His look turned very intense, his bright blue eyes piercing and examining her as if he were searching for something he couldn't find the answer to.

"I didn't . . . want things to progress any farther without being honest with you," it was a gargantuan effort for him—she could see that. And now she was convinced that whatever he had to say would _indeed_ be earthshaking.

He took a deep breath and continued. "I had no idea the date would be as massively wonderful as it's been so far, you know. I . . . really didn't think . . . I'd like you so much . . . and I'm elated you like me. But I don't want . . . secrets between us."

Now he was looking agitated. Yeah, that was the word for it. Wow, this was more than unsettling. It was scary. What could be troubling him so much to take such a drastic measure as to hole up in the bathroom?

"Lou, what is it?" her voice was gentle as she tried to soothe his edginess. Edginess clearly didn't come naturally to him, and it wasn't appealing either. It looked so unnatural on him, and it hurt her heart. The relaxed, almost languid body language he'd exhibited before had now become rigid and tense.

He licked his lips and took a sip of the ice water he'd brought into the bathroom. They sat there with just the illumination of the night light—thank goodness she had the kind that came on automatically when it got dark. She abhorred bright lights, but it was especially nice now because she wanted to ease his tension.

She gave him time, not touching him except for laying her hand on top of his. This silent form of support seemed to calm him somewhat. When he spoke, it was with tenacity, as if he was determined to express himself no matter how much toll it took on him. Still, indecision marred his features, and he was fighting an inner battle. She saw it all on that expressive face of his, every emotion, every uncertainty, and wished she could take his anguish away.

"I wanted to say . . . things to you . . . but I realized I couldn't because of the cameras and microphones. It really perturbed me. Still does."

He was speaking more slowly and she didn't have to strain to understand certain words. His accent, although heavy, was easier to understand when he slowed his speech.

"Take your time. There's no hurry," she encouraged. "Let me go get you a glass of champagne. Will that help to ease your nervousness?" she asked. He nodded. She went and got them two glasses, setting them on the counter after she'd taken a sip and Louis had taken a deep swallow that nearly drained his glass. "Thanks," he smiled.

"Really, there's no way to soften it. I _do_ want to continue this date with you, but . . . I do have to tell you something, Tawny. It wouldn't be right . . . if I didn't. I didn't expect you to be like you are."

She assumed that he meant that in a good way, and nodded, but didn't speak.

He froze. Clearly he was past struggling. He was to the point of just trying to swallow, not able to speak. She handed him his champagne glass and he finished it off.

"More?" she asked, ready to get up and refill his glass. He shook his head.

It struck her then. Could he possibly be wanting to talk to her about Harry? She realized it was a long shot because there had to be at least a hundred other things it could be about. It was just that he was so profound about it.

She decided to lend him a helping hand. "We won't get anywhere with you all worked up like this, so let's just start talking about anything to loosen you up. No pressure, okay?"

She could mention Harry in some capacity and maybe, just maybe, she could get the ball rolling. If it was Harry that he needed to talk to her about, she could try to lead him to it while remaining as non-threatening as possible, but in the end, Louis had to be the one to spit it out. Prying something out of him with a forceful nature would only make him reluctant and surely cause him emotional discomfort even worse than he was enduring now.

She hurried on, trying to keep his mind occupied. "Let's play something that I used to play with my girlfriends when I was a teen. It's called 'stud or dud.'"

His brow crinkled, trying to figure out where she was headed.

"Now . . . we'd name boys, and we'd take turns labeling each one a stud or a dud. Let's take your band. Since obviously none of them are duds, let's call our game 'stud or indifferent.'" She had to admit she was patting herself on the back for being so inventive on the spur of the moment.

His brow was still wrinkled, so she just continued on. "Liam. Stud or indifferent? I'll go first," she quickly added. "Indifferent."

Louis ventured forward cautiously, but he was a good sport and played along. "Same here. Indifferent."

 _Good. At least he was talking!_

"Okay, let's do Zayn now, even though he's not in the band any longer. Indifferent for me."

"Same. Indifferent."

She decided to insert Harry next, instead of making him last, as that might be too obvious, and arouse Louis' suspicions.

"Harry. Stud." Then she waited. She didn't have to wait long.

"Stud," Louis said almost without any hesitation. Her stomach flipped, and her heart skipped a beat, but she didn't give any indication of it. She schooled her expression to look mildly pleased.

"What do you know, we agree on all of them so far!" Tawny held on steadfastly to her relaxed, cool manner, although she felt anything but mellow about this.

"Now, Niall. Indifferent."

"We officially now have all the same answers. Indifferent to Niall," Louis responded.

 _So . . . he considered Harry the stud?_

Composing herself was more difficult than usual because of the subject matter, but she somehow managed it. "Okay, here's another one. Who is your favorite person in the entire world?"

Okay, so she was being furtive and sneaky, but she really couldn't see any other way of coaxing him into telling her what was making him feel so flustered.

His reaction to her query was very telling, to say the least. The way his eyes instantly sparkled told her that whomever it was, the person he had in mind was indeed special to him. She could almost read the lines of his story in those eyes. Whatever it was, it was pure magic. Maybe his mother? She'd heard he was something of a mama's boy and also loved his family. She sat there, almost slumped in her effort to appear as casual as she could. It was very far from easy though.

He smiled, and it wasn't forced or tense. It was real, as if he were having a fantasy playing out in his head.

"Harry," he said so softly she had to strain to hear him. Her heart was about ready to leap from her chest. She just might be on the right track!

"You've . . . you've seen lots of videos of the band, you said. You must have seen at least some of the Larry Stylinson ones," he added tentatively, averting his eyes from her gaze in an un-Louis-like gesture of shyness.

"Yes, I have." She paused, trying to decide what comment to make. "Any truth in any of it?" Tawny was overjoyed that she was managing to act detached and not look as if she was hanging onto his every word.

"Uh . . . funny, but that's exactly what I . . . wanted to talk to you about. And you're brilliant, the way you got it out of me."

 _So she hadn't been so clever after all._ Somewhere along the line, he'd figured out what she was attempting to do. She put on her best slightly pouty look, adding a bat of her eyelashes for good measure. She wasn't going to deny it. Why lie? He was finally giving her the best present possible—complete honesty.

"How much truth?" She just couldn't subjugate the urge to ask again.

"Well, they do tend to sometimes take parts of different interviews, etc. and piece them together to make it look more convincing in those videos, but even so, they're right on target for the most part."

Somehow she'd known it, deep inside, even though she hadn't wanted to dissect it overly much, because it seemed so over-the-top. She knew the two of them flirted because it was all there on camera, but he was essentially saying right now that it was _more_ than flirting when they were alone. But how _much_ more, she wondered?

Louis stared at her, his eyes searching hers to see signs of approval or disgust, or any sign of a resulting disinterest because of his confession. She smiled immediately to put his mind at ease.

"I love that. I guess you can say I'm a Larry shipper."

Louis' shoulders practically sagged in relief. She could actually watch the tension melting off him.

 _He had been afraid she wouldn't approve._

"I thought . . . you would think I was a hypocrite to have this date with you, if you knew . . ."

"I have no problem with it, obviously, since I'm a shipper. But why . . . why do you both date girls? What's the _real_ reason?"

"Time for me to come clean with you, instead of half-truths. Management, mostly. They think they need to keep our image squeaky clean for the young girl fans. Management has the idea that if it was general knowledge that we were gay, and in a relationship with each other, we'd lose fans because the girls would lose their dream of someday marrying Harry. But Harry and I do date girls occasionally. Only occasionally though, and only with certain girls, as we are not attracted to most. And even then, we only do it enough to satisfy management."

The way he said "management" as if it left a bad taste in his mouth told her that he was far from happy with the arrangement.

"Yeah, when you said you dated women earlier tonight, that perplexed me."

"So, sounds like you were pretty sure about me and Harry even then. Now you have an explanation. So, yeah, we fancy women, but we fancy each other . . . much more." Well, that about summed it up, she supposed.

 _And why did he think it was just Harry the girls were after?_ His esteem couldn't possibly be that low, not with the kind of confidence he carried around. But for now, that was another subject, and they could go back to it later. This was far more important.

It was a lot to take in. She wondered if his comments meant he didn't _fancy_ her the way he fancied Harry? Of course he didn't! Perhaps he was just being nice, even though he'd denied that earlier on? Now she was really baffled. Her mind felt muddled.

"I wasn't going to tell you. No one knows, you see. Yeah, management is suspicious, and obviously, so are our fans, and the buzz about it is getting bigger by the day, but still, no one knows for sure.

They're starting to give us orders to stay apart, even though our band has always been very hands-on. It must look really unnatural to the fans because it was so sudden. Almost overnight Harry and I weren't interacting much anymore. Interviewers and reporters are asking us about it. We've had to stop putting our arms around each other, or touching at all, really. It's getting so bad that they aren't even letting us sit together anymore for interviews or really anywhere that cameras might be around. We are getting to the point to where we're even afraid to look at each other. I don't want it to tear us apart." With this last statement, Tawny's heart throbbed for him. What kind of existence was that? Being around someone you really care for almost constantly, yet not being allowed to show your feelings in public?

"I'm not ready to announce it to the world yet. I decided to tell you because I trust you. I know I shouldn't—not after this short of a time, but somehow I just know, deep inside, that you won't "out" us. Also, I felt it was only fair for me to tell you. Doing this any other way would have been wrong."

She'd seen it in the videos, the stares between them being glaringly blatant. Neither one looked at another bandmate in that way. Yet, this date seemed to discount it. Why would Louis agree to this date if he felt the way he did about Harry? He'd agreed to do it, and he hadn't even seen her yet! If there _was_ something to this Larry Stylinson thing, she'd wanted to assume lust prevailed, and that had been foremost in her mind. Hearing Louis' confession though, blew that idea out of the water. This thing the boys had was more than lust, just as she'd suspected since the beginning.

"I know what you're thinking. Publicity is why I agreed to this "win a date" thing. They desperately want us to be associating with girls, be seen with them. They were hoping either Harry or I would be picked by whomever won the drawing, to try to disprove the rumors." So, now she had the whole picture.

"You and Harry are together as a couple?" She said the words out loud in hopes that it would become real to her, that she would be able to accept it. Spoken words can sometimes penetrate barriers a person has mentally erected.

"It's been going on . . . for almost as long as the band has been together. The feelings, I mean. We didn't . . . act on the feelings for close to a year, but it got to the point to where . . . we couldn't deny it anymore. So yeah, I guess you could say we're in a relationship."

Tawny felt a prick of annoyance. She felt strangely cheated because she knew Louis wouldn't be truly _hers_ tonight because his heart belonged to Harry. On the other hand, she had seen that adoring look Harry reserved just for Louis so many times, and the thought of stealing Louis away from him, even for a night, tormented her.

"I'm not mental, truly I'm not," his voice echoed in her ears. Even though she understood it, oddly, none of it made the least bit of sense. Now she didn't have the foggiest clue why she was even spending the evening with him, here in the bathroom, nonetheless, sharing secrets. How could he possibly really want to be with her when his heart so overtly belonged to Harry?


	7. Chapter 7

"The trouble with this is . . . I hadn't counted on it being like this," Louis continued to try to explain. "I should never have agreed to the contest in the first place." His eyes looked far away as he focused on some obscure corner of her bathroom.

Her heart dropped. But just as quickly it was replaced with a feeling of slight resentment. He'd already kissed her with a great deal of passion, and now he was saying he shouldn't have agreed to be the "prize" in the contest? How was she supposed to take that? Talk about mixed messages. Next to Harry, what was she? Chopped liver? If that didn't make a woman feel inadequate . . .

Tawny's reflections reminded her that she had seen that fiercely possessive look on Harry's face enough times to know that Harry considered Louis his, and his only. But if Louis dated other girls, how was this that much different? Concurrently, she felt as if she was stealing Louis from Harry. Her feelings were all over the board, her emotions conflicting and baffling.

"I opened me big mouth again, and the words came out wrong," he said a minute later, a grunt of disdain for himself in his throat, probably sensing her disquiet. "I meant I shouldn't have entered the contest because I didn't know how much I was gonna like you. I figured you'd just be another girl . . . but the trouble is, you aren't."

If that was meant as a compliment, it made her feel a _little_ better. Still, she knew he was making the assumption that she knew he would always love Harry above anyone else. That was a given, and she could accept it.

Still, she didn't know how to respond to his statement, so she kept quiet. They had taken their shoes off and tucked them neatly into a corner, and seeing them now reminded Tawny of the picture she'd seen of Harry's gold boots, nestled right up flush with Louis' Vans, outside their shared dressing room. It had made her heart flutter and her breath catch.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said when he spied her wistful smile. She told him exactly what she'd been thinking.

"You know," he said as he grinned impishly. "You have to watch every little thing you do when you're in the spotlight. That's how the fans found out we shared a dressing room. They never miss a thing. That picture caused all kinds of speculation. We got separate dressing rooms right away, but the damage was done- the word was already out."

The hidden truth between Harry and Louis wasn't as hidden as they had thought it was, because Tawny had picked up on it early on—she just hadn't been absolutely sure. She wondered how many of the Larry videos Louis had actually seen. Not many, she guessed. Maybe that was a good thing, as he probably would have been very disturbed, had he known how obvious they really were. That hidden truth was beautiful yet sad at the same time.

"Will you forgive me for treating this "date" so casually?" he asked. "I mean, before I actually met you, I was kind of cavalier and dismissive about it."

"No need to apologize, but I have to say . . . I kind of envy Harry." Tawny realized what an understatement she'd just made.

"Thank you," he responded. "But I really expected Harry to be picked by the winner. So much so that I thought there had been a mistake. Everyone seems to feel as I do about Harry. I can't tell you how much competition there is for him. So for you to say you envy him, really makes me feel exceptional . . . at least, to you."

He had the funniest way of making her sigh with gratification, a sort of felicity.

"You're the leader of the group, remember. The orchestrator, in a sense. The inspiration, and the motivator. Stop throwing shade at yourself."

"Well, just keep in mind," he suggested, "that every one of us has their merits and makes their own contributions to the band. Liam is the grounded Daddy Direction, and that's a massive responsibility and accomplishment, and it's on a daily basis. Niall keeps our spirits forever lifted with his sanguine attitude. And Harry . . . well, Harry embodies all the best of 1D. There isn't a thing he does that isn't generous and sincere, and usually without any premeditation. It's all natural, just the way he's wired."

A strong statement, indeed. But she knew it was true. She loved watching Louis' face when Harry was mentioned. His expression defied description every time Harry's name had popped up. He lit up like a Christmas tree. Whatever was between them was _intense._

"Harry blushes a lot over compliments, and so do you. That's one reason I was so captivated by you," confessed Louis.

For some reason, all this talk about Harry didn't bother Tawny, and that shocked the hell out of her. She couldn't seem to know enough, or hear enough. She'd fallen in love with _their_ love. Louis was now being open with her. That inspired great admiration for him. She hoped the best for them, whatever might or might not happen tonight.

As they sat side by side she gazed at his tattoos, thought about all the intricate ink that illustrated how his and Harry's eerily matched up. Really _not_ so eerie—definitely pre-planned. Ship and compass, anchor and rope, cage and bird. Their tattoos told a very explicit story. You only had to pay attention.

Louis rounded on her just then, pressing her against the wall, dying to taste her lips. The feeling was just the same as it had been in the living room, and if possible, the intensity had increased. His warmth was seeping into her as his lips moved over hers insistently. The notion crossed her mind to push him away, tell him that she knew . . . she knew he was in love with Harry, and although he had not openly admitted it yet, it was brazenly flagrant. For some reason, it was crucial that she hear it from his own lips.

She didn't, however, possess the willpower to push him away or to reject him on the grounds he was in love with Harry. She'd won the drawing, fair and square, he had agreed to it, in love with Harry or not, and here they were. If it weren't her, it would have been someone else with him tonight.

The kiss became increasingly heated, his lips covering hers and his tongue entering her mouth for the first time. Gently, slowly. He'd taken it by degrees, in tiny increments, never pressuring, governing himself according to her response. The gentle permission he sought was affectionate, impassioned, sensitive. Everything she had always craved, but had never found.

Tawny found herself wanting more and more. She was never satisfied; even though he kissed her in very long episodes, she yearned for more. She knew how much he had to give. Intuition told her, and she wanted a sample . . . no, much more than a sample of it.

His mouth devouring hers, her head was floating in the clouds, disconnected from her body. She didn't even know if she could process his kind of passion. She was damp now, had been for some time. Just kissing him was all that was needed.

Heated male appreciation stared at her when their lips came apart. He was spearing her with that _look_ again.

"You really _are_ bi, aren't you?"

He answered without delay. "Yes, and sometimes I wonder if it's more a curse than a blessing," and this was said sardonically, an overtone of resentment peppering his words. She wondered if he ever lay awake at night, mulling over his affliction. It had to be challenging. Then he softened. "As you can surely tell by now, I'm very into you."

Louis had learned a long time ago not to go into a blind situation unprepared. But that's just what he'd done tonight. It caused a gnawing in his chest. The other girls he went out with were just for show, and they meant nothing to him. But Tawny—well, she could possibly prove to be divergent. That caused his head to spin in bemusement.

"We need to slow down again. If you keep kissing me like that, I'll end up taking you forcefully," she said, laughing, and he laughed too. It was an easy laugh, the tension mostly gone.

"Glad to know the feeling is mutual," Louis' eyes got that dazed look, and she wondered if he was remembering how Harry had said in that quick interview that his first crush had been Louis, and when asked how Louis felt about it, had said, "Mutual, we've discussed it." Louis probably still had no idea just how much she really knew.

"Tell me more about you and Harry." The arousal hung heavy in the air, and it was dawning on Louis that they not only desired each other, but the thought of Harry was adding to it. They both knew it. Louis had noted early on that she seemed most eager to hear as much as possible about Harry and himself. And now that they were away from the cameras, he was happy to oblige.

He took a deep breath and let out a long, shuddering sigh. "Harry . . . how do I even begin?"

Then his eyes twinkled. "Ah, you're so kinky. Wanting to know details about me and Harry."

"Not about _that_ , just stuff in general. How your relationship came about . . ." Uh-oh. She was going to give away how stuck she really was on their romance. He might think she was obsessed or something. She decided she'd better lighten up.

Louis didn't seem to mind however. "Well, Harry told me his let his guard down and then he felt defenseless. Ever listen to the song "If I Could Fly?" She nodded. "It was just like that. He was vulnerable and had to put his trust in me."

"Wow! That is one emotional song!" She wasn't stupid, and he knew it. She knew he was telling her, in a roundabout way, that indeed, he and Harry were very much in love. The words to that song could not be taken any other way. It was full of hurt as well as hope.

"Liam cried the first time he heard it played back." Louis bowed his head slightly, as if acknowledging the truth inwardly, with reverence. "Harry and I had had a pretty serious spat at one time, and that's when he wrote the song. He thought there was a chance it was over."

"Well, it's beautiful. The emotion in it is just . . . explosive. What else?" It seemed her curiosity had no limits.

She squealed as he pulled her into his lap.

"Harry has an abundance of charm, and he seduced me, literally seduced me."

 _Oh my God._

Okay, so he already had teased her about being kinky, even though it had been said mostly in jest, so she tried to hide how this last line had affected her. It didn't work. Louis was onto her, and readied himself to pour on more specifics.

"He did?" she asked, wide-eyed, not able to conceal her fascination for long.

"Yeah, he was so stealthy about it. Innocent and stealthy aren't supposed to go together, but Harry did a brilliant job of it. Before I knew it, I'd given in to him, and we hadn't even touched each other yet. That's how hard he grabbed onto me heart.

"Harry also loves it when I call him 'bad boy.' I did that on stage once, no microphone, and I thought he was gonna come undone. We teased each other in those days, before management started controlling us. We'd get each other all worked up for later, after the concert. There's something very heady about being on stage in front of sometimes as many as fifty thousand people, and letting the sexual tension build gradually, encouraging it, luxuriating in it, pushing the limits of being discovered. There's only so much you can do, and it's extremely stimulating."

He went on, knowing she was eating it up. "Harry doesn't like swearing or smoking, and I do lots of both. But because it's me, it's different, somehow, I guess. He makes me feel special. He smells so good. Kind of like oranges and cinnamon, and his hair . . . the scent of his hair could cause me to have an orgasm, and it's not his shampoo—it's just _Harry."_

Tawny gasped at his use of the word orgasm, and Louis smiled. "I knew that would wake you up."

"Do I look like I need waking up?" she asked. She knew he had to be aware how riveted she was to what he was telling her.

"No, I guess you don't. You're quite taken with the thought of the two of us together, aren't you?"

Tawny blushed and fidgeted slightly. She felt a little dirty, and definitely sheepish. "Yes, and it's really embarrassing. I'm normally not 'into' guys in a relationship. It's just you two. I can't figure it out except that the romance factor really makes a difference. You know what? I couldn't think of a word that described how you two look at each other, and I finally figured it out, It's the _softness_. . ."

"Yes, we treat each other as lovers," he said quietly. Did he mean they actually _were_ lovers, or still in the flirting stage? Or maybe _stuck_ in the flirting stage. But again, she wasn't naïve enough to think there was nothing more than flirting. Hell, she didn't know _what_ to think at this point.

His devilish look as his eyes scanned her again aroused her. She still sat on his lap, his skinny jeans being very tight as they always were, and it allowed her to feel the shape of his lap and . . . oh dear. Just the thin material of her dress and his skinny jeans between them was not enough, and yet too much. He didn't seem bothered by it though. He handled it admirably. He continued to act natural and confident.

More kissing, the heat index went up even more, and the two of them were breathing raggedly in no time.

 _How was she going to come out of this bliss still alive?_

"Harry lets me have me way with him," he was speaking in a very low, almost gruff tone, exciting them both. He knew just what he was doing. "He likes me take-charge attitude."

That did it. Her imagination had run amok. She couldn't stand to listen to any more. She'd gotten just what she'd asked for. Clarification. There was no way they _weren't_ lovers. All doubt had dissolved.

Raw, raging desire was overtaking Tawny. Louis growled low and menacingly at the most intense moments as they kissed, he made her toes curl, and then he'd back off. She was feeling terribly faint with desire. He was quite accomplished with seduction, and she had no doubt who had tutored him.

"I remember you sitting on a couch with Harry when you let your head fall back over the back of the couch, then looked at him sideways in a coy way. It was a wonderfully flirty move, and his eyes on you were just adoring. You looked like you were a lioness, purring for the attention of the lion."

"Yes, I felt just like that too. And Harry certainly has enough mane to be a lion. And luckily that moment was captured in a photo. We get so into each other that we find we aren't aware of anyone else in the room or anywhere around us. Even cameras rolling. I have that photo beside me bed, on the end table."

He went on. "It's overwhelming, how strongly we feel. It's so bloody hard to describe. Well, hard in more than one way," his eyes danced with bedevilment.

She had to laugh, instead of slapping him like she probably should have done. But for the irrational, out of control desire that was right under the surface, it was all in fun, and they were both trying to deny the closeness they were developing. A losing battle. She knew though, through all of this, that in no way would she ever compete with Harry in Louis' heart. And that was okay.

He was putting on that self-asserting male attitude of his that she found irresistible, despite how exasperating it could be. He was a spitfire in the emotional category, and she could only imagine how much of a handful he was yet to become. Oh . . . she should be so lucky!

"For some reason, the song 'No Control' comes to mind," she said with a smile. "Is it like that in reality between you and Harry? I mean, your interaction is so . . . what is the word again . . . _soft._ Yes, soft. Do you two get as, well, out of control as the song suggests?" She waited for him to shut down again as he had in the living room, and avoid the question.

But he didn't. Now they were down to the nitty gritty. Louis would either admit the extent of his relationship with Harry, or he wouldn't.

"Where do you think I got the inspiration for that song?"

So there it was. Tawny was delighted. She finally had her answer, and it was not a half-ass answer either. It was a full come clean, out of the closet statement.

"And," he said pointedly. "The song only covers the sexual side of it, not the love. The love is what makes the rest of it so special."

She stifled a gasp. She'd gotten even more of a confession than she'd anticipated. He'd also just confessed that he was in love with Harry. She felt so special, that he would confide in her, and trust her with the information. She smiled and hugged him.

"Did you know I wrote the song 'Home' for Harry after he wrote 'If I Could Fly' for me?" Louis seemed to be comfortable telling her these things, so she was not about to stop his elaboration.

"No, I know a lot, but that, I _didn't_ know. That's about as romantic as it gets. But . . . I don't know if we should be here . . . like this," Tawny was feeling guilty again, sitting on his lap.

He knew what she was concerned about. "Well, Harry knows all about it, of course. And he gave me his blessing. He told me that he loves me so much that he's willing to share me if necessary."

This time the gasp escaped Tawny's mouth before she could swallow it. Harry really was precious, and apparently so hopelessly in love that he'd willingly let Louis out of his clutches for tonight. She still had _so_ many questions, and even more affection for this couple than she'd had before.

"I noticed you're more subtle in public, and Harry is a dead giveaway," she offered.

"Oh, he's shameless sometimes. And a little too naïve about the cameras, I think. But I don't reject him, ever, because it's actually _impossible_ to reject Harry. And I couldn't hurt him even if I _could_ resist him."

"More has been captured than I think he knows," Tawny gave her input carefully. "Those Youtuber's zoom in on _everything_ the two of you do. Even those very subtle brushes against each other's hands. Everything." She wanted him to have some idea so it wouldn't continue to cause trouble with their management.

Louis shook his head slightly. "I'm scared to find out. There were many, many incidents." At least he realized the problem was potentially serious.

When he began kissing her again, his mouth was the sweetest of tortures. He didn't ask silent permission now—he just _took._

"I think it's sexy," he said softly as he lifted his lips from hers. "Sexy that you are so accepting, and that you think this thing of mine with Harry is erotic. You know, I didn't even think we'd end up kissing tonight. And I was resigned to that," he revealed.

"Maybe even more surprising, I was thinking the same thing. I thought we'd just talk, eat, drink, have a good time, and then you'd leave in the morning, and hopefully, I would have made a new friend who would call me every once in a while, just to talk," she admitted. "Just that much would have made me very happy."

"Well, unlike the others, Tawny, you're not a _girl._ You're a woman, and you're mature. It's so refreshing for me not to have to listen to endless giggles, squeals and pleas for autographs. You have substance. You and I are really connecting."

Again, Tawny felt the rasp of their clothing between them. She thought she felt him pulsing against her. On his lap the way she was, it was not difficult to feel every curve and ridge of his body where they were touching.

On Louis' part, the pressure she put on his lap from her body weight was bad enough, but she kept shifting every time she laughed or re-balanced herself. His erection was crying out for release, or at least some attention. But alas, he was used to Harry's teasing. Harry loved to draw things out and tantalize him. And here he was now, enduring more of the same thing. Well, it was true that Louis had done _his_ share of teasing tonight too.

"I'm glad now, that I decided not to pick Harry," she admitted. Louis perked up.

"You were thinking of picking Harry?"

"Yeah, I had to weigh the pros and cons. I really wanted to pick you, but I did feel Harry might be a better match."

"Oh, care to tell me why?"

"Well, he's been known to date older women, of course, and also, he's quieter than you, so humble and calm." She realized she'd inadvertently made Louis look bad.

"I didn't mean it that way. It sounded like you're obnoxious, which you're not," she tried to amend. "It was just that you are so outspoken, outgoing, and confident that I thought you might really intimidate me."

"And do I?" he asked immediately, eyebrows raised and mouth in a straight line, kind of halfway making one of his funny faces, probably to try to put her at ease, she supposed.

"No, you don't. Once I got to know you a little bit, I realized I'd made the right decision after all."

There are all kinds of silences. Some are awkward and uncomfortable, some are cautious, and some are easy and mellow. This one was the latter. They just sat side by side, each immersed in his or her own ruminations, Louis' arm draped over her shoulder.

"I'm gonna go get another glass of champagne. Want one too? Finish that bottle off?" he asked.

"Sure," she smiled as he scampered from the room—not really running, but not walking either, looking quick and carefree as he so often did.

When he came back in with two filled glasses, he smirked slightly. "The people watching those cameras are probably pissed off as hell. I'm a devious little bastard."

She laughed.

"Just imagine, we both disappear into the bathroom, then you come out and get some champagne and go back in. Then, later, I come out and do the same thing. Yeah, they're no doubt pissed off. No action to be seen, ha!"

Louis flipped his head slightly to get his lustrous, clean hair, free of product, out of his eyes. She saw the devilish impudence in his eyes when he thought about pulling one over on NBC. Once again, what a spitfire he was!

Her attention went again to his hair. She really liked it in its natural state. When she reached up to touch it, the softness felt like silky gossamer between her fingers. He soaked up the strokes, clearly used to affection, and hooked on it as well.

She'd impatiently put her own hair back up in the clip for the second time. Strange and unusual for it to slip out twice like that. Louis reached over and unclipped it. This simple gesture was made sensual by the tenderness and fluidity of his fingers. "Please leave this out," he asked in such a sweet way that there was no arguing the point. Then she realized what had been happening.

"Have you been unclipping it?"

He bowed his head as if in shame. "Yes. I love it down. Guilty as charged."

"But I didn't even feel you do it!"

"I had hoped you were so into the kissing that you didn't take notice." He was right—she went into a virtual trance when he kissed her.

As they sipped their champagne, she rotated her waist to look into his eyes, calling on her guts to give her the valor to ask him something that had been on her mind. "Is it okay if I ask you something . . . personal?"

"Anything. Be me guest," he responded, apparently no longer the least leery of anything she might inquire about.

She'd made up her mind earlier that she wouldn't hesitate or hold back. Tonight was going to be too short as it was. Nervous or not, she had to go through with it and ask him.

"Did you . . . did Harry . . . I mean, did you two 'Love each other Goodbye' this morning?"

Louis bent over at the waist to laugh. When he caught his breath, he stared at her with high regard. "So I'm not the only clever one usin' lyrics 'round here, yeah?" he murmured. "Clever lass, you are."

He took a long swallow of his champagne and let the air of a sigh out between his teeth.

"And aye . . . we did."


	8. Chapter 8

It hit Tawny deeply and strongly when Louis honestly answered her question about he and Harry "loving goodbye." It was an awe-inspiring moment, and the dull, heavy ache returned to her chest, even though Louis had tried to be lighthearted about it.

"In the beginning I wondered if it might be a one off with us," Louis said thoughtfully, continuing to let bits of illumination slide from his lips like sand might slide through his fingers, a few grains at a time. He was diligent, was careful with her feelings, but was also sincere and open. "But it went in a direction I didn't really expect. We were so bloody attracted to each other that we wanted to be close all the time. We suffered when we were apart."

He had a strong personality. As strong as anyone she'd ever met. Yet Harry, who was fairly mild, especially in comparison, had powered through it enough to win the older boy's heart. Harry had been that persistent, that tenacious as to completely disarm Louis and claim him as his own. It must have taken untold fortitude. There must be a lot more to Harry than what met the eye. More even than his generous heart, his ready smile, and his gentle ways. He evidently also knew a treasure when he found it.

Had Louis been a headstrong child? She would bet on it. Had he been insolent? She doubted it.

Obstinacy and stubbornness were not the same as rudeness and disrespect, and she just couldn't see him being impertinent with his parents. But she had no doubt he'd been the teacher's pet as well as the class clown, and sometimes a nightmare too, but what was there not to love in this opinionated, bold young man who wasn't afraid to speak his mind? Indeed, Harry had excellent taste.

"That's beautiful," she said softly of his comment, reminded of the woman interviewer telling Harry it was beautiful that Louis had been his first crush. But she did mean it—it was the first thing that came to mind, so she'd let it tumble from her mouth. It had been obvious to her from what she'd seen that Harry had been the first one to make a move, or at least to state his interest in Louis.

"Something is bothering me, and I have to come clean," she said a moment later. "I told you I'd never been married. I didn't want to scare you off. I _was_ , in fact, married briefly in my twenties. I'm sorry I wasn't truthful."

Louis shrugged slightly, adopting an off-hand attitude as if he'd already suspected as much. "That's alright. I lied by omission about Harry too. I should have told you straight up about the depth of our involvement."

She liked the feeling of getting that off her shoulders, and his apparent acceptance of it.

"Well, let's make a pact. No more secrets. If we don't want to answer a specific question, we should just state that."

"Excellent," he said.

There was something that had Tawny bewildered, and now was as good a time as any to bring it up.

"Harry is an enigma to me," she began. "On occasion, I've seen him act effeminate. Most of the time though, he's very masculine, even with that baby face. It really intrigues me."

Louis nodded. "The gay side sometimes oozes from him when he least expects it," he explained. "But yeah, the majority of the time, he acts very masculine."

"But you . . . she said, "now that you're older, you're nowhere near as feminine as you sometimes were when younger."

"I was a mere boy back then. Now I'm a man. But I do still have me moments . . . when I'm a little too flamboyant," he smiled. "But then, being onstage is not as easy as it looks You have to be the right mixture of everything, and I don't generally follow guidelines well. You have to entertain your audience as well as sing. We have to be announcers and comedians as well. And that requires some acting ability. So Harry and I _do_ turn it on to get the audience stoked. We ad-lib it, with nothing scripted, and the flamboyant side does emerge sooner or later."

 _As if he had to remind her._ The whole band was endearing, unafraid to be different. She admired the fact that they were themselves, above all else, Louis being the leader of originality—matchless and incomparable, unflinching, regardless of the inevitable judgment of some audience members. You couldn't suit everyone, anyway.

"I love how each of you expresses yourselves," She also wanted him to know how much she respected his unparalleled personality. "And you most of all. It was the first thing I took notice of about you."

Louis looked overcome with some unnamed emotion. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself.

Are you quite finished?" he finally blurted, practically sputtering.

"Why did you ask that?" She feared he was finally growing weary of all her questions and observations.

"Because I want to kiss you some more."

So much for picking apart things and examining them, at least for right now, but she did, again, appreciate how Louis stated his preferences without fear or trepidation.

His lips were ready for hers. The kisses became hotter and fiercer. It left them both gasping and red-faced. Louis again stopped when the kiss was steadily climbing an insurmountable height. It was quite an effort. She saw it in his eyes. But if this is the way he preferred to play the game, then she had no arguments. She'd play right along, because she simply wanted as much of him as she could get.

His mannerisms. That cool, devastating nonchalance that only disappeared when he was full of passion. She wanted to just sit there and study him. It likely wouldn't have bothered him much. She'd seen Harry study him in just that way, and Louis hadn't been squeamish or at all self-conscious. He was his own man, and besides his uncertainty about his singing voice, he was a "take me or leave me" kind of guy. The exception, of course, would be Harry. She sensed he'd do pretty much anything to make Harry happy.

His ardency when he resumed to kissing her had no equal. He untethered himself, held nothing back. He had so little in common with most guys she'd known. They had not spent time on kissing, nor did they care. They wanted their own gratification. As for Louis, she still wasn't certain if he was just going along with this, or if he really did like her. If he was just going along though, they wouldn't be in the bathroom, away from the comfort of the living room. Was his only reason for coming in here because he wanted to tell her about Harry? Or did he want her alone, and solely to himself? Or maybe he was just defying the cameras? Giving NBC the proverbial finger?

Under his tee shirt she could see he was lithe and his muscling lean, explaining his fleetness and agility. And the boy was also _solid._ When she touched his belly, she could feel the ridges of muscle. You could see it on video, but in person, even though he was not an overly large guy, it was exceptionally impressive.

Was Louis the inventor of charm? Maybe not, but he was surely the creator of his own brand of it. Whenever she even mentioned the TV show they were supposed to be featured in, he got a "what the hell do I care" look on his face.

 _He truly didn't care._ He was about as nonconformist as they come. It attracted her like a ravenous dog to a piece of meat. She had great admiration for his unorthodoxy, his freshness. That confidence she so coveted.

When his tongue entered her mouth again, he'd worked her into a thorough frenzy. She sucked it, feeling the shock in his sharp intake of breath. His breathing quickened. Her hands traveled to his belly again, kneading the firmness of his response was to slip one of his hands from her back, and down, slyly lifting his tee-shirt by a few inches for her. She accepted the access with relish.

Both of her hands slid up from his belly to his chest, brushing against the hair that had sprouted there only in the last year or so. _He was so young still._ But a man nonetheless. And legal. And willing.

 _But he also had a boyfriend._ The bar scene hit her consciousness like a slap in the face. Louis had been drinking too much, and getting on the loud side, saying, "Boyfriend!" when Harry had grabbed him and spun him around, after what looked like a quick kiss, so Louis' back was to him, and wrapped his arms affectionately around Louis' waist. Harry did that a lot. He was good at maneuvering Louis, even though Louis had the stronger personality. And Louis apparently just ate it up.

Tawny wrenched herself backward, still on Louis' lap, her eyes seeking his.

"Harry . . ." she said. "I feel bad. He's so damn crazy about you. That bar scene . . . he was so tender. He took care of you when you'd had a bit too much to drink. He held you like a lover."

"When he pulled me into him and held me from behind?" he asked. She nodded. "I remember that night . . ."

Louis' face showed bewilderment at first, and then realization, and finally something akin to fear. " _That_ was caught on video? How much else has been caught that I don't know about?"

"I could go on forever, but Harry slapping your butt, you grabbing his hand on the way onstage, and reluctantly letting it go, the love sign language, which people have deciphered and shared, by the way, the time you were in an interview, and Harry's fingers were crawling on your arm and you eased your arm back to give him access, the scene where you and Harry were inside a room or something, and fortunately Niall shut the door, blocking the camera's view. It was said you two were kissing. The video was far from crystal clear, but I could see Harry backing you up, your arms around each other, and it certainly _looked_ like you were kissing. I'm telling you, Louis . . . they are all over Youtube."

Louis sobered, looked to be deep in thought, his eyes flaming as if he'd just figured it all out, and then began asking her about other incidents he remembered, wondering if they had been seen and recorded. He looked almost paranoid. _And well he should,_ she thought. He asked questions in such rapid succession that she would still be poring over the first question as he sat waiting for an answer to the third. His accent thickened, and his rapid fire way of speech returned. She answered as best she could remember of the scenes she had witnessed on her computer.

"No wonder management flipped out so much. I thought it was just mostly rumor they were going on, but apparently they also knew about those videos."

"Oh, I don't think there's any doubt of that," agreed Tawny.

"I was stupid. Stupid and careless. Harry and I both were. I guess we thought we'd get away with it forever. It was so good . . . they say good things always come to an end . . . we weren't trying to hide it that much. Or not _enough,_ I should say. We weren't as discreet as we should have been. We were affectionate in public, but much more so in private. Or so we _thought_ it was private, but from what you said, cameras must be on call _everywhere_ . . . that's why the whole thing blew up in our faces and management banned us from acting like we even _know_ each other. "

He'd known it all in the back of his mind, of course. Louis was far too clever to take those kinds of chances. But when you're in love, you don't always think clearly. You do more irrational, senseless things than you otherwise ever would. People in love had been like that since the beginning of time. Love seems to take away all good sense and judgment. It literally makes you lose your head.

"Stop being so hard on yourself," she pleaded, seeing the pain and raw hurt in his expression.

"We've ruined ourselves. We did it to ourselves!" Louis spoke of himself and Harry. "If we'd used common sense instead of letting our emotions rule us, we could still have the same relationship we had before in public. Damn! The rest of us still touch, hug, put our arms around each other. But because of our stupidity, Harry and I can't do that anymore. We blew a good thing. Now, if our eye contact lasts longer than two seconds, it's frowned upon, and we hear about it."

Sorrow engulfed her for Louis and Harry and the price they were paying for being young and carefree and reckless. . . Recklessness can bring worse repercussions than young people ever suspect. They had been too young to realize acting on impulse oftentimes has considerable consequences.

The full realization was hitting him hard. How much more would they have to give up? How much more than they already had? He gave himself a mental shake.

"But this isn't supposed to be about me and Harry. It's supposed to be about you and me. We can go back out into the living room whenever you want. I reckon being sat here in the loo can't be that cozy for you. We just won't be able to mention Harry and me."

"I kind of like this privacy," she answered. "But I'll go back out there if that's what you'd like."

He shook his head. "No. I'm enjoying this much more than I should be."

They relaxed through another bit of easy silence. Yet every move he made, however slight, every breath he took, she was acutely aware of, her senses homing in on him. He reached for his glass of champagne, and she observed the cut of his ribs, the rippling of athletic muscles in his torso from under his shirt that was still pulled up in front, and she sighed with frustration and deprivation. His body was so nicely toned from soccer, his antics onstage, learning to dance, and his otherwise very active lifestyle.

There was a strong chemical reaction between them, there was no denying that. Her desire for him was, unfortunately, not something she could control. Even the golden hairs on his forearms seemed to taunt her. Those wonderful piano-playing fingers . . .

The reflection from his watch danced now and then on the walls of the bathroom. She listened to his breathing, steady and slow and controlled for the moment. She even studied his bare feet—how perfect his toes were shaped, and contrary to Niall's remarks, they didn't stink. In fact, the smell of his warm body mixed with his touch of cologne make her head reel. He smelled like open meadows, spring grass, with an undercurrent of spice to go with it. Maybe the cologne just went well with his body chemistry, but she'd never smelled a cologne quite like that before. He was a drug, and she could absolutely, totally, get dependent on him. She could see herself being atrociously greedy—needing bigger and bigger doses of him.

She wanted the feel of his arms around her again, the rasp of his breath when he hung in the midst of passion, and she liked to believe he'd nearly surrendered to that passion a few times.

He dazzled her, enthralled her. The chestnut and cocoa hues in his hair arrested her common sense and she found herself burying her hands in it, against her better judgment and completely against her will, all the while trying to soak in the fact that he was really here with her, in the flesh.

 _This wasn't a dream._

He sat quietly as she continued to tunnel her fingers in his hair; his eyes roamed over her, as they did at intervals, and this served to make her even weaker in willpower. She might as well admit she had no self-discipline, and having him this close was a challenge that was not easy to turn away from. It was as close to impossible as anything would ever be. She'd never even dreamed of coming up against something like this before. He held her captive without having to lay a single finger on her.

He devoured her mouth with a greed that made her feel as if she were weightless, as it was intense as only a dream can be. She swallowed down a helpless whimper.

"We need to sort this out." Why, oh why, was he talking again? Here he had her like putty in his arms, and he insisted on discussing their situation! But then, Louis was always a talker.

"Are we dancing around each other?" his question sounded absurd to her ears. _Dancing around each other?_ She knew _she_ surely wasn't dancing around _him._ He had reduced her to a boneless heap. He had her so worked up that she could barely form words. Her lust for him was so straightforward that she wondered why he even had to ask the question.

"Doesn't seem like it at all," she said, her voice raspy, hoping he got her meaning.

He did.

"Sorry, I don't have much of a filter on me mouth. I just don't want to offend you by taking this further . . . "

Oh for God's sake, why didn't he just shut up and kiss her?

"I need to savor you . . . not rush." She bet Harry had taught him that too. Those two apparently were real artists at lovemaking. In the meantime the heat of his arousal continued to singe her through her clothes.

"Are you quite finished?" she threw his earlier statement back at him, causing him to chuckle. The hint wasn't subtle.

She could almost feel the questions forming in his mind. Sitting on his lap as she was, he bent her backward to kiss her more thoroughly. A minute later, his hot breath on her neck was shockingly intimate. Goose bumps, shallow breaths. Greedy lips tasting her flesh.

She didn't give it to just anyone, but she'd never been up against anything like this before. Not even close. The sexual awareness could not be tamped down.

 _He wanted to know how far she wanted things to go._

"Damn," he said softly. Just that one word said a thousand sentiments.

As badly as she wanted to grant him permission and help him with decisions in this matter, she couldn't do it. Words failed her, and she didn't know how to express how she felt anyway. She did know she was highly reluctant to progress past kissing when she was so hyper aware that he and Harry were together. Maybe not exclusively, but together.

And that was the biggest hurdle—avoiding the thought of how Harry might be feeling tonight. His beautiful, clear, bright green eyes might be shedding tears right now, knowing Louis was with someone else . . .


	9. Chapter 9

Tawny sighed as she and Louis, in tandem, drained their glasses of the last of the champagne.

"I'm glad I didn't get drunk," she said, "You were right. We drank the bottle, but slowly enough so that I'm only a little buzzed."

"I told you I wouldn't get you drunk and take advantage," he reminded her.

It was the strangest, most comforting feeling, knowing Louis wasn't going to be pushy, even though she wanted him like no one's business.

"You know," she said. "I like your style. Not just in how you dress, but especially your personality. Casual, yet with an edge. I like the rebel in you."

He cleared his throat. "Let me be your only rebel," he smiled in that teasing way of his. "But seriously, don't trust rebels," he warned, his brow wrinkling soberly. "You gotta use caution with guys that are rebels, but as for me, I'm not a threat to women. I just stand up for meself and don't let others push me around. Specifically, management. But rebels as a rule are usually bad news."

There was that dirty _management_ word again. "It won't be this way forever, though." His voice held an ominous quality a kind of conviction, and she knew without being told what he was thinking about. That when he was free of his contract, things would change drastically.

"Know what we need to do?" His eyes brightened with the spark of mischief he was so good at unveiling at random moments.

"What?"

"Call Harry," his inquiring blue eyes watched her closely.

This was probably the last thing on earth she expected him to say, and it startled her into temporary silence.

This could either be a good thing, or very bad, depending on his motive. "Why?" she asked.

"So he can tell you for himself that he's okay with this 'date' of ours. It's really thwarting your peace of mind, and hindering our date, and we need that to stop."

Tawny took a moment to ponder this. Her first instinct was to object, but then she realized she wouldn't truly be able to even enjoy Louis' kisses without knowing Harry wouldn't mind. His sweet face, so full of love for Louis would keep popping up in her mind relentlessly, as it was already beginning to do. Who could possibly intentionally hurt Harry? Maybe Louis was right.

"I think you're right," she said after mulling it over briefly. "And I have to . . . pee, so you'll have to get out of here. You can call him, talk a few minutes, then come back in here." She could feel the blush washing over her face.

"No, I can't. Remember, the camera and microphones are out there. I'll go out for a minute, and then come back in here and call him if that's okay."

There she went, forgetting the cameras and mics! If it weren't for Louis, she probably would have totally blown everything by now. Louis trusted her, and she could not do anything to betray that trust.

Louis went out, and Tawny quickly relieved her bladder, which was miserably full from the champagne, and when she let him back in, Louis already had his phone out of his pocket and in his hand, Harry on speed dial, just a push of a button away. He raised his eyebrows, asking silent permission, and she nodded.

"I don't know what to say to him," she was feeling very anxious and shy, not sure if she could go through with it. It was a big enough milestone in her life to meet Louis, but to talk to Harry on the phone—it was all a little too overwhelming.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'll put him on speaker, talk to him a little, and then mention your worries to him, and all you have to do is listen to what he says."

Tawny was hesitant, but agreed, because she knew she'd have no peace until she heard Harry say it with her own ears.

"Lou?" Harry's eager, expectant voice answered almost before the first ring had completed. He sounded breathless.

"Yeah, Harry. How ya doin'?" Louis' voice instantly softened and his eyes actually changed. Tawny looked on in fascination as they transformed. They looked like a fawn's eyes—gentle and virtuous. Soft, tender. Tawny could also feel the change in Louis' very bearing. _Yeah, he felt strongly about Harry._ That much was crystal clear. No one, but _no one_ could have missed it.

"Missing you, luv," Harry didn't know he was on speaker, and Tawny suddenly felt as if she were eaves dropping.

"Want me to leave the room?" she whispered to Louis. He shook his head in the negative.

"I miss you too, Hazza. Always." His tone was definitely sentimental. The mere sound of Harry's voice had softened him. It gripped at her heart. And he certainly wasn't shy about expressing his fondness.

"Harry, my date, Tawny, feels . . . uncomfortable about me being with her, because of you and me. I told her about us. And don't worry, I trust her not to tell anyone. But . . . if possible, could you possibly mention how we do date girls now and then, and that it's alright with you? Emotionally, that is?"

Harry's slow, naturally languid voice was like butter, soothing on her nerves, even with the slight husky raspiness that accompanied it. She suspected that raspiness was caused by excitement at the sound of Louis' voice.

 _Kind of a bedroom type of raspiness._ It reminded her of how erotic his singing voice could be when that special lusty rawness crept in.

"Well, you know I prefer us two together, but I don't have a problem with your date . . . no. Like we've discussed, as long as I remain in your heart, it's cool. I love you, Louis."

Tawny almost gasped aloud. This reminded her of the tweet Louis had sent to Harry that had been big news for quite a while.

 _Always in my heart, Harry. Sincerely, Louis_

This was so personal, yet Louis didn't seem to be distressed about it, or making any move to signal her to leave the bathroom. She felt the worst about Harry not knowing she was listening, and that made her feel even more like she was imposing on their privacy.

But Louis clearly had nothing to hide, and he didn't falter or stammer. "I love you too, Harry. Can't wait to hold you again. See you tomorrow."

"Alright, luv. Is everything going well?"

"It's smashing. She's lovely, and she cares about your feelings. She's concerned mostly that everyone is happy, at peace with this, and accepting."

"No problem," said Harry. "And good-night, Louis and Tawny."

Louis disconnected the call.

"How did he know he was on speaker?" Tawny asked.

"Harry knows me inside and out after all these years. Besides, it's the only way you could hear him state how he felt unless you talked to him, and I know you were uneasy about that."

Yes, of course. It was a rather simple concept that he should know he was on speaker. Tawny felt a little foolish that it hadn't occurred to her earlier. She'd just been so nervous . . .

But at least now she had a definitive answer.

"He's amazing," she said, in essence, worshipping Harry for his kind, princely ways. He and Louis were so different in many other areas, yet so alike when it came to really important things, one of them being their love for each other. Love could overcome significant obstacles, but even a great love could only withstand so much . . . If only "management" knew what price these boys were paying.

"Harry has so much empathy that I sometimes wonder if he's real," stated Louis.

"That's what I was just thinking about. You found a real gem, Louis. You _both_ found something to cherish in each other."

"It was funny. I wasn't looking, and I don't think Harry was either. But when we ran into each other in the toilet, of all places- and I'm sure you already know that story, we looked at each other and something just happened. That sounds cheesy, but I swear we both knew we were destined to be together within the first few seconds. Right from the off. It was as if we didn't really even have to say more than a few words to each other. We just stared into each other's eyes. From that moment on, we weren't out of each other's sight unless we had to be.

In boot camp, I even considered prowling around at night to get to Harry, who was in the same room, but a different bed, but we were always so exhausted by the end of the day, and more importantly, we didn't want to lose our chance at being in the band, so we abstained. Besides that, the cameras would have picked us up. They were everywhere, just like in this house. We had an extended period of flirting, like I told you. About a year. By that time, we were both a little out of our minds with the yearning."

"Tell me about your first time," Tawny knew it was hazardous and chancy, asking him such a personal question, but she and Louis seemed to have a silent pact about it, both understanding that it aroused the other. So far Louis had not taken offense at anything she'd said or asked, but this . . . this could be taken as nothing but exceedingly personal.

Louis, admirably moderated as he'd been most of the time he'd been here, became glaze-eyed again.

"The first kiss?" he asked. Well, it was a starting point.

"Yes," she said, too chicken to say she wanted to know _everything,_ from the first kiss to the most sexual thing that had happened between them. The emotions, the wanting, the first touches . . .

Louis seemed to be digging around in his brain to find the appropriate way to articulate the experience.

"Well, imagine this . . ." he began. "You've admired, adored and lusted after someone for a solid year, yet not gone beyond pats on the back, or the One Direction style hugs. The build-up, the accumulated emotions, all kept tightly bound for all that time, when you're with someone for often fifteen hours a day, barely eating, barely sleeping, performing and working your ass off. You're so tired that you can hardly think about . . . romance or anything that goes with it. But then your head finally hits the pillow, and _BOOM,_ the thoughts start snowballing. Even though you're seriously sleep deprived. That's how strong it was between us.

And when I finally _did_ sleep, I dreamt of Harry almost nightly. Boot camp didn't last that long, but it seemed like it was an eternity. So after it was over, Harry and I _really_ wanted to hang out together. Simon didn't like that, and so our 'intimacy' was put off even longer.

When we were finally in a position to have more freedom, Harry and I ended up on someone's couch one night. Some party or something—I really can't remember because Harry was all I was thinking about that evening, beginning to end. People were in other rooms, partying, laughing, talking and we were the last thing on their minds. Harry had already seduced me long ago, but not in the literal sense. It was all fantasies. But that night . . . I'll never forget it.

We'd held off so long . . . Harry was actually trembling and quivering. He was that nervous, that excited. Harry really is innocent, even though he's not, if that makes any sense. It's as if every time with him is the first time. His anticipation was so great that he could hardly speak, let alone sweet talk to me," Louis smiled, a nostalgic, faraway look shining brightly in those clear blue eyes of his.

"But he did it. He kissed me like a dream, and once we started, we couldn't stop. He taught me so many things that I'd never given much thought to before. He taught me patience, how to go slow, how to entice. How to create a slow burn. And here I was, the more aggressive one! It mattered not though, because he was so dead set on it, and had been dreaming about it for so long, that he could no longer put on an impassive face to the world like he had been doing. He'd been lying to the world, and trying to lie to himself too. But that night, I knew for sure that he felt the same degree of desire for me that I'd felt for him all along, but hadn't owned up to. I was more reserved, and expecting rejection. So I don't think I'd have ever made the first move.

But I knew it was right, from our very first kiss." Louis seemed to be wrapping it up, and Tawny accepted that this was all he was going to share. She didn't know if she could withstand hearing more anyway. As it was, her heart was bursting with a passion for _their_ love.

"Tommo," she said affectionately, burrowing her face into his neck. "Are you really fool's gold?"

"I hope not," he answered, not even questioning her having so much knowledge any longer. It felt strange to him to have someone know him nearly as well as he knew himself. Someone who had followed him so closely. But that was what fans did.

"He didn't write 'Fool's Gold' about me, as some people seem to think. Or rather he _says_ he didn't write it about me, but, early on, he might have felt that way. Until I proved meself, and earned his trust. You see, I was flippant and cocky, wasn't as transparent with me feelings as he was. He wondered why I didn't wear me heart on me sleeve in public as I did in private, but after a while, he really rubbed off on me, and I did start showing it, to a degree, and that was our undoing."

Tawny felt privileged that Louis would reveal things so momentous, so pivotal to him, and she vowed to herself not to tell a soul any of these secrets that he was entrusting her with.

They talked for a couple more hours, kissing in between, but always stopping before things got too heated. Louis sensed she was still a little troubled about Harry, and so he didn't push the envelope. Little did he know she was so worked up that she was trying not to pant or do anything else that might give her desire for him away.

"It's getting late," she said, even though she was afraid to look at his watch. She really didn't want to know how late it was, because she knew that then she'd count the hours until he would be leaving. And that thought was too painful to imagine.

"It's too uncomfortable to stay in the bathroom. Let's go to my bedroom . . . and sleep," she said, trying to make it sound like it was not a federal case. He looked into her eyes, attempting to read her mind, but all he got was a blank stare.

"Okay, I'll get me pajamas, if that's okay."

"That's fine. I'll put on a nightgown. Meet you in the bedroom," and she slipped out the door. Louis' heart dropped just a little. Well, maybe it only sagged, but he did want to hold her and kiss her some more. He didn't know if she'd allow that where the cameras could see them. He went to get his overnight bag, and pulled his pajamas out, slipping into them in the bathroom.

When he entered the bedroom, knowing which one it was only because she'd left the door ajar, she was in bed already. He sure was glad he hadn't gone into the wrong one, and waited for her, only for her not to show. Yeah, that would have been embarrassing. She hadn't told him to sleep in the other bedroom by himself, so he took a chance. "Did you mean in here . . . with you?" he said as he poked his head around the corner.

"Yes," she patted the mattress beside her. She smiled at his striped pajamas. Well, he may have outgrown the striped shirts, but apparently his love of stripes lived on in his pajamas.

When he laid on top of the comforter, she nudged him to the far end of the bed so she could raise the covers.

"Underneath," she said. She hoped the awareness of the cameras would wear off, as it was really pestering her. The thought of the lenses taking in every move they made . . . she felt violated, even though she'd agreed to do the show. She knew it was required, yet it was as if there was a peeping tom right there in the room with them.

Her nightgown was soft, and made of cotton, he supposed. Her sheets were soft too, and the pillow cases, the material caressing him as he slipped under them. She snuggled right up to him as they'd been in the bathroom, and he welcomed it eagerly. His hands put faint pressure on her back as he rubbed it tenderly. She sighed and scooted even closer.

He knew his hardness was prominent, but she'd already felt it in the bathroom, so he hoped it wouldn't offend her. He couldn't help it—he couldn't have willed his erection away if his life depended on it. Sure, Harry made him rock hard just by entering the room he was in, and it amazed him every time. But to have a woman do the same to him was mystifying. His attraction to Tawny admittedly wasn't as strong as it was to Harry, but he honestly hadn't had a whole lot of sex with women, because he would much rather be with Harry. He wasn't as accustomed to women. But he liked everything about Tawny, and most of all, her unassuming, sweet, quiet attitude toward him. She didn't fall all over him, yet she responded with real passion when he kissed her.

He was resigned to just sleeping together by now. And that was fine with him. He felt desire, but it wasn't the raging, searing desire he had for Harry.

They lay there, looking into each other's eyes, both trying to measure how the other felt. Tawny closed her eyes, then opened them a minute later to see if his were open. They were closed. So she closed hers again and decided that fantasizing about him was all she could do, in reality. With the cameras and thoughts of Harry in the way, it was becoming clear nothing was going to happen.

So she fantasized about Louis, not realizing Louis was doing the same thing . . .

She was getting ever more hot and bothered, his body so close as her mind drifted to kissing, touching, and other forbidden actions. She was getting very wet, and since they were lying on their sides, she felt his stiffness jerk now and then against her belly. She supposed that happened to a lot of guys in their sleep. She tried to collect herself, but she was burning up inside.

She felt conflicted. She wanted to reach out and touch him in a nonsexual way—let him know how much she appreciated his restraint and respect, but how was she to do that?

They both moved at the same time, and he clasped her hand in his as he pulled her to him, holding her tightly against him.

"Were you sleeping?" asked Louis, his voice sounding wide awake.

"No, just fantasizing," she said truthfully, not meaning to confess, but being truthful with him was too easy.

"Were _you_ sleeping?" she asked.

"No . . . and I was fantasizing too."

The eye contact resumed. There was something so exciting about seeing the desire in his eyes and being pretty sure he was not going to act on it.

She kissed his neck, and it felt like honey being drizzled on his skin. Wet, soft and searching. Desire was overtaking him. She was almost like a female version of Harry, since Harry was not demanding, and tender in much the same way. He tilted his neck to give her better access. He didn't have a problem with the cameras, but he knew she did, and she had to be protected.

How did they get themselves into this mess?

He cupped her cheek in his hand, caressing it lightly, with hummingbird wing touches. Need for him welled up within her. Shivering sparks assaulted her body, even though he wasn't touching her in a sexual way. Heat began from low in her belly and spread out in spirals, darting everywhere on her body.

The cameras were suddenly forgotten, the TV show faded from her consciousness. All she thought of, all she knew right now was _Louis._

 _He didn't assume anything, and expected nothing from her._

Knowing this did nothing to dull the ache in her belly. Never had she wanted so badly to make love with a man.

What she didn't know was that his already diminished resistance had now become almost nonexistent . . .


	10. Chapter 10

Louis stared in disbelief at the bathroom door Tawny had just disappeared behind, the slam ringing in his ears, and worst of all, the click of the lock just added salt to the wound.

Women . . . this was one reason he didn't date often. And why he was with Harry, with the mild, even temperament, quiet demeanor and calming influence. Now he was _really_ missing him.

Louis had half a mind to just up and leave, right then. Just walk out that door, grab his body guards and go home. Women were too fussy, too complex and too reactive.

 _Still . . . he knew better._

That had been such a stupid move, those offensive, unfeeling words emerging from his obnoxious mouth! How could he? He couldn't have been more presumptuous! Foolish, rash and inconsiderate. That's what he was. You didn't treat a lady like that. She was right, he had assumed where he shouldn't have. You let _her_ decide, not just take the reins in your own hands and take control.

He wasn't going to go to the bathroom door and beg. He wasn't going to do it! She should have cut him a little more slack. What she'd done storming out of the bedroom like that was dramatic and unnecessary. She could have discussed it with him, explained to him why she felt he should have handled things differently.

His mind continued to ricochet back and forth like this.

 _Damn! Calm down, Tomlinson. It isn't the end of the world, and she'll have to come out of the bathroom sooner or later. Don't let that damn temper of yours rule you._

It was entirely possible though, that she just might spend the night in there, knowing their time would be over at eight in the morning, and that he'd be leaving.

Let her. Let her pout in there. He wasn't going to go implore her forgiveness. He had someone waiting for him anyway. Someone who appreciated him.

Hazza . . . they'd been apart longer than overnight on many occasions, but that didn't mean Louis liked it. He missed Hazza's arms wound tightly around him, his scent, his total, unconditional acceptance.

Was this a trap? Some women played games. They tempted you and then discounted you. He hadn't thought Tawny was that kind of woman, but he'd been fooled before.

Thinking about it for the next ten minutes, Louis finally decided Tawny's actions were justified. He'd acted like a sex starved numbskull. And he wasn't raised to be like that. He had been raised to be a gentleman, and a gentleman would go to the door to ask it she was alright, at the very least.

Sighing, he slid to the edge of the bed, grabbing his pajama bottoms and pulling them on. He wasn't shy about nakedness—Harry had abolished that. But seeing him standing there naked, should he be able to get her to open the bathroom door, just might get the door slammed in his face again.

Just as he neared the bathroom door, getting ready to knock softly, it opened. They both startled. Her long lashes fluttered as she shyly shot a sidelong glance at him, her posture indicating her defeat.

"I'm sorry," they both said at exactly the same instant.

"Hey, it was just a misunderstanding, it was," said Louis, carefully measuring his words.

"I was too quick to put all the blame on you," she said.

"I acted more like a wild animal than the respectful guy I really am," he uttered quietly. "I really didn't expect . . ." he floundered momentarily. "I was never dishonest with you. I meant what I said hours ago. I don't expect anything. I really am domesticated," he smiled gently. "Just got carried away. Brilliant of me, yeah?"

Tawny giggled and pulled him into the bathroom. He was so flustered, so concerned about her, and that told her tons about his integrity.

 _He was just being a man, for God's sake. Men had scorching desires._

Well, he wasn't the only one here with scorching desires, she mused. She had been so close . . .

"Why did you bring me into the bathroom again?" he asked, modulating himself so he didn't go and blow it again by rambling and being verbose.

"We can't talk about Harry out there," she said, sounding begrudged by it. So she really _did_ enjoy discussing Harry, and Louis' relationship with him. For some reason, Louis was aroused by the thought of that. Just as he had been earlier.

Louis sat down on a cushion, watching Tawny touch up her make-up and brush her hair, which had adopted the "bed head" look when they'd been in bed together, under the comforter. A little wild. Her cheeks were peachy-pink, her blond hair framing them and giving her that innocent look that was so appealing to him.

"Why has no guy snatched you up?" he asked on a whim.

She looked over her shoulder and gazed at his endlessly blue eyes. They were holding her prisoner.

His quiet nature was so different from when he was feeling playful.

"I never felt the spark. Never met anyone that I felt I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And of course, my marriage was a joke." Somehow Louis made her feel liberated. He didn't make demands, or judge her.

Louis rose, and as she was facing the mirror, he caged her in between his hands, placed on each side of her against the counter. There was something feral about it. This young man could be lethal to her heart. She had to be careful.

"Why was your marriage a joke?"

"It's really not even worth talking about. I was young, and jumped into it without thinking. We were totally wrong for each other. And now, as far as dating goes, guys always get to sex sooner or later—usually sooner. It seems like it's the ultimate goal with them. That's why I'm so sensitive about it, and jumped the gun by getting uptight with you," she explained.

"Why did you hang around with guys like that?" he asked, his head cocked and trying to look light-hearted and slightly amused when he was, in fact, annoyed at the thought. _She was too good for that._ She shrugged, acting as if it was no big deal, when he knew it was.

 _Had she thought he was like that?_ She must have, because she'd high-tailed it out of the bedroom.

"I'm rather direct at times, but I wouldn't want you any other way than willing." He chanced it—that she wouldn't throw another temper tantrum.

Luckily, she comprehended the concept he was attempting to get across. Her eyes were soft, accepting. At his first touch, an amazing bolt of pleasure raced through her. His hand cupped her neck, and she allowed it, welcomed it even. She leaned back a bit, allowing his arms to encircle her.

"Earlier, I quoted some lyrics from "Glitter in the Air." The reason I did was I thought it might apply to us tonight. I'm not looking to use you. I truly like you, and truth be known, yes, I desire you too. But firstly, I like you as a person."

"Tell me the lyrics to "Glitter in the Air.' Her eyes in the mirror looked expectant, attentive.

"Okay.

 _Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?_

 _Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it_

 _Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?_

 _Have you ever looked fear in the face_

 _And said I just don't care?_

 _And it's only half past the point of no return_

 _The tip of the iceberg_

 _The sun before the burn_

 _The thunder before the lightning_

 _Breath before the phrase_

 _Have you ever felt this way?_

 _Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?_

 _Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone_

 _Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?_

 _Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?_

 _It's only half past the point of oblivion_

 _The hourglass on the table_

 _The walk before the sun_

 _The breath before the kiss_

 _And the fear before the flames_

 _Have you ever felt this way?_

 _There you are, sitting in the garden_

 _Clutching my coffee,_

 _Calling me sugar_

 _You called me sugar_

 _Have you ever wished for an endless night?_

 _Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight_

 _Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself_

 _Will it ever get better than tonight?"_

For a moment, Tawny was speechless. He was right—those lyrics could apply to them. The references to letting a stranger come inside, the fear before the flames, the hourglass indicating their limited time together, and even the part about feeding each other with their hands. And those lyrics were _beautiful,_ just beautiful.

"Those lyrics are amazing," she wanted to say so much more, but nothing could do it enough justice.

The silent penetrated down to Tawny's bones, a quiet understanding between them as he held her from behind, his breath warm against the delicate skin of her neck.

"Did you ever feel that way with Harry?" she asked, catching him off guard.

"Yes," he said quickly and candidly, no time needed to think about it.

"Do you and Harry cuddle much?" Suddenly Tawny felt she had to know.

"That's what we do best," Louis' smile was wistful. "We spend a lot . . . I mean a _lot_ of time cuddling. Just holding each other."

"I saw on a video where Harry put his head on your shoulder on a park bench or somewhere."

"Yes. We do . . . or _did_ that kind of thing all the time. Until we were banned from it."

"And the way you touched each other's legs under the table, making the love sign." She wasn't sure if he was aware of that incident being caught on camera.

"It's the angles. There were always cameras everywhere, but we didn't know that some were at a weird angle, and they were able to capture moments that were supposed to be between just Harry and meself. Those cameras can be brutal and unyielding. It seems the camera men are like sharks waiting to attack. They just wait for you to make the slightest wrong move, and it's caught on tape, and then it's there forever, and can't be taken back."

"It's a shame the media has to be like that."

"Well, it's show business, what can I say?" the corners of his mouth turned up, and he was so adorable that she just had to turn around and hug him.

"Show me how you and Harry cuddle." Was that really her that had said that? It was so unlike her to be so blunt. This whole evening had been unlike her, come to think of it. It was Louis' influence . . .

 _Okay, so she wanted to be in control. He could manage that. He'd let her call the shots._

"Okay. Down on our sides," he instructed. So they ended up as they'd begun when he'd first asked her if she liked to cuddle. Back to square one. He didn't mind. What would be, would be.

The close contact felt beyond the realm of good. He rubbed her back as he'd done before, the way he did with Harry as well. He wanted her to have a taste of what it was like between himself and Harry, since her well of interest in it wasn't going to run dry anytime soon, and he was only too happy to talk about Harry, and even demonstrate their special intimacy during cuddling.

"We rub each other and talk for a while, then we get as close as we can, and rub each other all over."

"Where?"

Louis cleared his throat cautiously. He'd have to be careful. "Well, it starts with the kind of rubbing I'm doing on your back right now, but then it advances to rubbing chests, removing shirts, and eventually rubbing below the belt with our trousers still on."

He felt her tense, and knew it was because she was paying acute attention to what he was saying.

"Go on," she urged.

"Well, we progress very, very slowly. Sometimes we flirt for hours, like we used to do onstage. It builds the sexual tension . . . is this too much for you?" he stopped for fear it was too descriptive.

"No, I love hearing about it."

Louis sighed quietly in relief, since his statement had been a risky one. "Okay, well, there comes a time when we can't fight it anymore, and then we just give in to each other."

"Who dominates?" she asked. Her face looked so innocent as the words left her lips.

"No one. No one is alpha, if that's what you're asking. We're on equal footing, generally, although I might be more aggressive sometimes, or Harry might. I guess we aren't a typical gay couple."

"Tell me about when you get more aggressive."

Louis' expression was ambiguous and almost spooked. Tawny could tell that perhaps she'd asked for a little too much. She'd almost put him into fight or flight mode.

"I have a feeling that might be TMI," he said, giving her a lop-sided grin.

"Since when are you diplomatic?" she teased.

"Oh, come on. Always, with you. You have to admit that. At least, I haven't cussed much since I've been here. Or said anything crude. I don't embarrass easily, but if I answer your question, _you_ might get quite . . . unsettled," he decided that word was most appropriate.

Tawny nodded. She'd wanted to know about the guys' relationship, but she didn't want Louis getting graphic either.

"Oh, and . . . now the champagne is going through _me,"_ he said, mischief written all over his face.

She looked at him suspiciously. "You really do have to go? Well then, I'm going out."

"Good call," he said as she exited the bathroom. Tawny shook her head at his sassiness. She saw clearly why the rest of 1D liked him so much. He could be a pain in the butt, but be so cute about it that you couldn't help but forgive him.

Louis decided to play a little trick on Tawny. The evening would not be complete without at least _one_ trick, since Louis was a natural comedian and prankster. He didn't spend much time thinking about it, because he was, well, _random._ It was impossible to be random when you regularly planned things out. And hell, he'd gotten in trouble with her once already tonight. He might as well one-up himself, and hope she would find the humor in it too.

When he came out of the bathroom, he locked it from the inside. He then quickly located her keys on the end table in her bedroom and pocketed them. Might as well do it right.

When he sauntered into the living room, Tawny grabbed his wrist and hauled him back to the bathroom, stopping short when the knob wouldn't turn.

"Lou, you didn't!"

"Didn't what?" he put on his clueless face, and she had to admit it was pretty convincing.

"Wait a minute . . . you did it on purpose, didn't you?" She began swatting at him, Louis ducking and still claiming no responsibility.

"How are we going to get back in the bathroom? Even worse, what happens when I have to go again?"

Louis couldn't hold it in anymore. He began laughing, quite proud of his accomplishment.

"It's alright. No worries," he took the keys out of his pajama pocket and handed them to her.

She shook her head in disgust. "Won't do any good. I lost the key some time ago, and never had another one made."

Louis' eyes grew wide. _Oh shit_. Now he was _really_ in trouble.

"Don't get mad," he pleaded.

It was too late. "You seem to be really good at sabotaging this 'date,' don't you? Might there be a reason for that?"

"Honestly, no. I'm just a jokester . . . " he finished lamely.

"Well, you've really done it now. We can't get back into the bathroom. I have a feeling you want this date to end. You're making a rather obvious concentrated effort."

Oh God. One of the other lads would have thought this was funny, but the female gender didn't quite get the male gender's sense of humor, he supposed. Females were too susceptible, too emotional.

"I know! I'll crawl in the window!" There was a small window in the bathroom, if he remembered correctly.

"Silly! You won't fit in there," she was getting very hot under the collar now, so he couldn't waste any time.

"I can try."

"Go ahead. You'll look like a fool in front of your body guards," she snipped, hands on hips, and looking pretty assertive for once. Ah, she could be sassy, just like him. He liked it. Almost too much. It was sexy. Now he wished he could get her alone in the bathroom. Yep, she was right. He'd sabotaged everything without even meaning to. Oh well, he was usually a positive thinker. He grabbed his radio and talked to his body guard.

"I'm comin' outside. I accidentally locked the loo door from the inside and I have to climb through the window."

The body guard hardly blinked an eye. He was well used to Louis' ludicrously odd antics. Louis didn't lead a "normal" life. He always seemed to be getting himself into some kind of trouble. His life was filled with one adventure after another, and so Marco just confirmed that he'd be waiting by the bathroom window that was, fortunately, facing the back of the property.

It was a tight squeeze, but with Marco's steady hands pushing him up and guiding him, he slid through the window. Louis, grunting and groaning because the bottom of the window sill was rubbing against a very sensitive area, looked down, and there was Tawny, standing in the middle of the floor, looking very satisfied with herself. He had been prepared to be mighty proud that he'd "righted his wrong," and here she was, taking the wind of his sails.

"Gotcha!" she cried. "I _did_ have a key. See? I can be just as underhanded as you!"

Louis glowered, but only for a second. He'd started this, and she'd ended it. He had no right to be angry.

Actually, she was a little bit proud of him for finding a solution in such a timely manner, but she didn't reveal that.

"You're lucky that window was big enough for you to get through."

"Well, it _almost_ wasn't. I nearly got stuck, but I'll spare you the details," he answered glumly.

He pulled her up against him before she could draw back, but she didn't exactly struggle to get away. She was hungry for more of him, but he was going to have to work for it . . .

He released his hold on her briefly to settle down on a cushion, waiting eagerly but fruitlessly for her to sit down as well. She continued to stand.

 _Well, that had obviously been another mistake._

"I want to talk more about Harry," she said with finality, wasting no time, a taunting leer on her face.

He got a kick out of it. It was fine with him. After all, talk of Harry got them both hot. It was a mutual turn-on, so he wasn't about to argue with her about it or be wishy-washy about how it affected him.

"We can't talk properly about Harry unless you're sitting beside me," Louis watched her face for indications of interest. Yep, her cheeks were colored up, and her chest seemed to be moving rather quickly with her suddenly accelerated breathing.

She sat down. The last of the champagne buzz had left, yet Tawny found she was still feeling venturesome, and still had enough backbone to assure Louis of her excessive curiosity about the two guys and their private life.

"Now . . . what about Harry do you intend to discuss with me?" Louis' crystal clear eyes were quite telling.

 _He liked it too. And he wasn't trying very hard to hide it, she mused._

She was really getting into this game of sorts they were playing. "What kinds of things do the two of you do?"

Louis put on his thinking cap. What was she expecting him to say? It was possible she wanted a blow by blow account of a typical day. Or was she talking about flirting, or maybe even sex? The blush on her cheeks told him it was probably the latter, but she was too shy to come right out with it.

"Please be more specific," he said. Make her work a little for it.

She didn't miss a beat. "How does it feel when he touches you?" she asked.

That was hardly specific. When you thought about it, it was actually pretty general.

"Like lightning is slashing right through me," he answered, figuring this was the kind of answer she was aiming for. Well, it was the truth anyway . . .

Her eyes were wide, and she looked like she was barely breathing now, waiting on his next comment.

"I want him touching me as much as possible, and Harry wants my touch even more."

Tawny considered this. "How do you know?"

"Because he follows me around like a lost cub, even though he's the bigger of the two of us. He craves it, he starves for it, he lives for it."

Tawny choked on a gasp.

"I play it a little cool sometimes, to keep him guessing. I don't follow him around like he does with me. But me appetite for Harry is nearly insatiable."

It was fun, watching her expression. He knew she was _dying_ to ask him more, but didn't know how to go about it—how to word it.

"He rubs me back, he creeps up behind me when I'm sitting on the couch and kisses the back of me neck, he tickles me, he'll do anything, _anything_ to get my attention, and make me feel good."

"But . . . but how are you aggressive with him? Like I was asking you before you locked the bathroom door?" Her tone was accusatory, as if she knew he had gotten out of answering her by distracting her. He had. Only it hadn't worked, because she was now right back on the subject like a damn barracuda.

Louis struggled with the wording. This was delicate. It had to be in language that she would find acceptable. Not the erotic way he and Harry sometimes spoke to each other. He had to keep reminding himself he was talking to a woman, not Harry.

"I kiss him boldly, I touch him more assertively, I basically take over."

Tawny considered that. "And he sometimes does that with you too?"

"Yeah. It just kinda naturally falls into place. Whatever feels the best for both of us."

Thank God she didn't ask for even more details. As it was, he'd had trouble controlling his language. But he knew she was aroused, and was picturing it in her mind.

"Can I have a kiss . . . please?" he asked.

Jesus, since when had he ever begged for a kiss? She withdrew slightly, and he could have sworn she was toying with him . . . again.

He loved her air of mystery though, and her feigned innocence, although she carried it too far sometimes. Because at forty-six, this kind of innocence would be very rare indeed. She'd admitted to her experience anyway, in a roundabout way. Hell, she'd been married. So why did she feel the need to put on this pure act?

He told himself he wouldn't do it. Wouldn't push her. But this had been building for so long now that his urgency was barely leashed. But what could he do about it?

"Okay, very well then. Let's let the dust settle," he said, sitting back and aborting his approach. This knocked her for a loop. She didn't know what to do or say.

But that didn't last long. Next thing he knew, she had drawn near, and kissed _him._ He'd regained some control, but when she reached up and brushed his hair back from his brow, he lost it all over again.

She melted into his mouth, enjoying and savoring the moist softness of it. And at long last, he sensed her complete compliance. No more games, She threw her head back as he kissed down her throat. His fingers tested for sensitive areas in her neck, shoulders, back and waist.

Words came from his mouth before he realized he was going to talk.

"Harry demanded that I look at him onstage once."

"He did? Why?"

"He claims me that way. Same as when we give the love sign to each other. I got so turned on when he said 'Look at me,' right in the middle of a concert. His mouth was far enough away from the mic so that the audience didn't hear, but I did. When Harry gets assertive with me, it almost buckles me knees. I still don't know if he knew how much it excited me. I got so hard . . . "

Tawny gazed at Louis in awe, waiting for more.

"That deep, rusty sounding rumble in his voice when he's in a mood for loving. Gritty and commanding. It took everything in me not to attack him on the spot.

That bit of footage you mentioned you saw of us in a room, before Niall shut the door—it was like that day. I'll never forget it. . . . Harry backed me up and cornered me against the wall because I'd been subtly teasing him all day. He finally couldn't take it anymore . . . and that was when he captured me and came at me with an onslaught of sultriness that only Harold Styles can deliver. I really thought I was gonna faint. I wanted him so damn bad . . .

The thoughts circulating in Tawny's head were positively succulent. Imagining the scene Louis created in her mind made her incapable of doing anything but to concentrate on breathing so she wouldn't starve for air. Oh, to see Harry being assertive with Louis like that, having so much need for him that he lost control . . .

She ran her fingernails lightly down Louis' spine, causing him to arch much like a feline, moaning out loud because he simply could not hold it in. She'd never felt this rampant and unbridled with anyone before . . .


	11. Chapter 11

Louis could feel it distinctly, and the intensity of it scared him. He knew she was surrendering completely because of the way her body softened and became pliant, how she molded herself to him. Hot, primal need filled him. If she turned him down now, he'd die. Simply keel over dead.

He rained kisses not only on her neck this time, but also scattered them down to her shoulders, slowly, coming close to torturing her, then back up to her neck again. His moan was a rumble that vibrated in his chest. If she refused him again, it was going to be much harder to stop this time.

Their cheeks rubbed against one another in a feline kind of way. Delightfully scratchy, barely- there whiskers against her satiny smooth skin. What a stark contrast, and a lovely, sensual one. Tawny was enthralled with how such a simple thing could influence her feelings, draw her closer to him in mind and body.

The sultry, hushed stillness was broken only by the sounds of their breathing, and the occasional scuff of his beard against her hair first, and then her palm when she fondled his face.

"What is it?" he asked, noting the odd tinge of sadness that didn't mar, but instead enhanced her sweetness. Tawny was baffled. How had he sensed what had streaked through her mind a moment ago as quickly as a lightning strike? The thought had only lasted a fraction of a second, yet he'd sensed it.

Upfront honesty was the best strategy with him, she already knew that. He was used to gentle honesty. He was with Harry after all, wasn't he?

"Oh, men," she lamented only slightly, so as not to sound as if she were sniveling. "I have . . . trouble trusting them."

"And it limits your involvement?"

Louis was such an inquiring son of a gun! But she already knew that. He'd demonstrated that more than once tonight. She was no one to talk, she reminded herself, because she had been terribly nosy too. Off the charts nosy, in fact. And he'd not judged her.

"Yes. You know the old saying—can't live with them and can't live without them."

He held her close as they talked, his arm coiled securely around her and it helped her to loosen her hold on her inhibitions and be more illuminating. She owed him that and so much more. He'd been so patient with her tonight, acting as if she was the only person in the world he wanted to be with. And that made her feel desirable and special. Something a man hadn't made her feel in a long time. Or ever.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, his voice gravely and only a hair above a whisper. It held a sorrowful tone, as if he felt a little bit powerless. Those words were a very long story in a drastically shortened version. But the message was clear nevertheless.

It hurt anyway, but no way was she letting him know that. She'd gone into this with eyes wide open, knowing this was only a fantasy-turned-real TV show that would dissipate as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. She drew a shaky breath and held up a hand. "I know. I understand where you're coming from. You are in love with Harry."

It was a statement, not a question, so he merely affirmed it with a single nod of his head. He wanted to protect her feelings, and she appreciated that. His well of love for Harry was bottomless, and it was so clear that it was elemental, immaculate. She accepted it. But the indisputable fact remained was that she still wanted him . . .

Louis saw that she was coming around . . .she was beginning to abide the facts. He hoped she really did catch the bottom line here-that he and Harry were inseparable and yet were at the mercy of _management._ She'd gotten caught up in it by entering the contest in the first place. It muddled things. Still, she remained up close to his body, still molded to him, and he had to ask himself if all this was worth it, because she could end up paying a very high price. He wanted and needed to shield her against that. But he couldn't—not totally, because he wasn't certain that she knew that Harry came first, and that there was no margin for error.

"Harry and I don't show it in public any longer, but . . . love, it binds us together." What else could he say? It had all been said already, in a subtle way up until now. Things were pretty much out in the open, and she seemed to be gaining acceptance of the facts. The passion between himself and Harry had been discussed, but the love, not quite as much. That was changing now.

The words that had been lodged in her mouth begged to be released.

"Is it wrong to want you so badly?" He had to understand that it wasn't love she was after. It would have been nice, had there been a ghost of a chance of love, but there wasn't. He was too young for her, and besides that, he was spoken for. So she'd have to settle for his amazing presence alone, even though it would not last for very long.

He shook his head. "No," he said carefully. "It's not wrong for you to want me, but I can't help wondering . . . if it's wrong for _me_ to want _you._ Harry is cool with it, but I know he's a little distressed too."

Louis suddenly got an idea, and he nearly sputtered while trying to get it out and heard.

"If . . . if Harry could meet you . . . " he paused in consternation. "I'd feel better about it."

Tawny was aghast. "Why?" Was all she could manage to utter.

"I don't know . . . I really don't. I can't explain it. You might feel better too—I'm not sure. I just need to know that Harry is really alright."

"So he's met all the girls you've been out with?"

"No, but, I haven't had, um, made love with any of them for a long time. Beards are beards. I'm just supposed to be seen with them—make it _look_ like there's something going on. I only take them out to dinner or to a club, and go home with them, wait for the paps to leave, and then I leave. But this with you . . .is a little different." No, a _lot_ different, thought Louis with irony. He felt wide open, exposed and vulnerable.

"So you haven't . . . been intimate with anyone?"

"Not for quite a while. Maybe that's why I might seem a little leery and flaky to you," he explained.

"You haven't been unfaithful to Harry," she reasoned, nodding her head firmly in understanding.

"No. Not since we more or less decided we wanted exclusivity. We didn't say it in so many words, but . . . I knew how Harry felt, and I felt the same way." Louis was really nervous now. This might be enough to send her off the deep end again. She might think he came over here just for show. But he had, hadn't he? No, _management_ had sent him over for show. There was a difference. They required it of him. He wouldn't have done it on his own. So he wasn't really to blame. Management didn't know that he'd never screwed the girls he'd taken out. As long as it _looked_ like he had, it was none of their business, he figured.

But this thing with Tawny was out of the ordinary. She was growing on him, and it had him spooked. She was so understanding and sweet. He was startled to discover that he wanted her too much. Maybe as much as she wanted him. With other girls, he had hardly been able to stand it until the moment he could leave. They'd kissed him and hung on him, but he'd felt little to nothing. Tawny was quiet and didn't act all star-struck like the girls he'd been used to for so long now.

He felt something for Tawny, but he was about as sure as he could be that it was simply sexual desire. The feelings he had for Harry encompassed both love and sexual desire. They had _everything_ together. It couldn't be compared to one night with a desirable woman.

"When do you want me to meet Harry?" Tawny was undecided as to how she felt about the idea. She'd absolutely _love_ to meet the one and only Harry Styles, but tonight? As tempting as it was, she was dying to get her hands on Louis Tomlinson.

This irrational craving for him—it was astonishingly strong. She was becoming conscious of the fact that it was about time she took a step outside her safe little world and did something crazy. Something she really _wanted_ to do. Not what the world _expected_ her to do. She'd been a good girl much too long. The proper little legal secretary. She'd had some time to think about it. There was no requirement that she be in love with him. But the erotic potentialities. . . he seemed to awaken that in her. This was her chance, and she was damned if she'd throw it away.

"Maybe . . . maybe in a couple of days," he answered her question about her meeting Harry.

"Oh, I thought you were talking sooner than that," Tawny was bewildered. Why had he so seemingly eagerly brought it up and then kind of backed off? And what was this about a "couple of days?" They were only to have this one night together.

No sense in dwelling on it if he had changed his mind about Harry. Right now her focus was entirely on him. Okay, so he'd said he didn't want to hurt her. She supposed that meant he only wanted to use her. Well, that could go both ways. She could use him as well, and no one would be hurt. Well, _hopefully_ not. They would just part and go their separate ways afterward. No hard feelings, but she knew she would treasure the memory for the rest of her days. The fact that she got to sleep with the Tommo.

She had no underwear on under her nightgown, and she knew he didn't have any on under his pajama bottoms either. The thought was so erotic, and it felt so naughty. Her hand skimmed over his bare chest—the chest that she couldn't stop staring at. His lips traveled over her ear, causing her to squirm. The worst part was when his breath kissed the area between her ear and neck. The goose bumps rose immediately and refused to leave.

She felt his intentions clearly when he began kissing her this time. He was more forward and positive in his actions. He'd been very successful with the extended flirting, she thought wryly. He'd known just what to do to entice her. And he'd also known the exact moment she had decided to succumb in her mind. It was uncanny, and it was not possible to resist. It only took a moment to figure out the truth. It was Harry's influence, of course.

She'd never met Harry, but he came off as being so sweet that she could see him preferring this easy, slow style of lovemaking most of the time. So Louis must be well-versed in it. It was his ticket to keeping Harry's heart, which, she knew, was foremost in Louis' life. Louis seemed to savor the slow approach himself. It must have been an acquired taste, since Louis seemed to do everything else in fast motion. Tawny couldn't help but to love Harry and his generosity. Even in love. Louis meant that much to him.

Sinful . . . the way his lips moved over hers as if he'd kissed several thousand girls. But of course, she suspected most of those prior kisses had had Harry's name on them.

 _Sweet sin. Sweet Louis._ It felt good, oh so good . . . to finally let go and follow her instincts. To be carefree and let herself _feel_. Why had she waited so damn long, anyway? Settled for so little? She'd wasted so much time on frivolous, meaningless "dates" with guys who couldn't have been sensual like this had their lives depended on it.

Now _this_ guy, he knew what he was doing. She wanted to find out if that extended beyond kissing. He'd been used to being with another male. Would he be lost if things progressed with her?

His tongue had full reign of her mouth now. He explored, did a little gentle thrusting with it, but didn't become overbearing like a lot of guys did at this point. And a sloppy kisser he was not. His kisses were creative and refined, his lips massaging hers. But as his excitement climbed, his inhibitions started to vanish. He sucked her tongue a little more aggressively, a little more demandingly.

His hand cupped her breast without hesitation. She liked that. He knew she was receptive and willing because of what had happened between them earlier, so he let his nerves slip away, in turn, boosting her own confidence. She was surprised at how coolheaded he was when most guys would be grabbing and clutching at her by now. He continued to press her down, and this was the one thing that seemed to take her arousal all the way to the top. He was obviously stronger than she was. But he didn't abuse it. That aroused her to new knew she could stop the proceedings at any time, yet his possessiveness and assertiveness drove her to the edge of her own control. He wasn't the only one with power. She sensed her power as a woman, and that was heady.

Down her strap came again as he tugged on it, his tongue trailing down her shoulder to the fullness of her breast above her nipple. He teased her by licking, but going no further. He was waiting—for total submission from her. For wantonness. And that's just what he got.

When she would withstand no more of his licking and beard lightly rasping against her skin, she laid back against the cushion, which made her breasts jut out, making no secret of her desire for more oral attention. He provided. Oh boy, did he provide!

Delicious warm tingles concentrated most heavily in her nipples, breasts and belly, then suffused throughout her body like a whirlwind as he sucked and teased. She could hardly get enough air. His tongue and lips were demanding, the sound of his breathing seductive.

He raised his head. "Let me guess. You've never really relaxed and let yourself go with a man, have you?"

The blush on her skin was instant. She shook her head, bashful because he was so much younger, but seemed to be so much more experienced than she was. How could she relax when she was teetering on the edge of her deepest, darkest fantasies coming true? She'd thought this kind of stuff only existed in romance and erotic romance novels.

His eyes lowered as he took in her body. Their bright blue didn't miss anything. His hot blooded inspection of her was embarrassing yet excited her beyond words.

Louis growled softly, the biggest turn-on of all. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his own as he looked at her body so boldly. So she watched him as he watched _her,_ and met his gaze head-on when his eyes shifted. There was no escape. She had the most overbearing urge to cover herself, but that would have presented as adolescent, unsophisticated. And she surely didn't want him getting that impression.

"You're massively desirable," he said, pausing. "And I want to make love to you."

She was jarred, speechless. It might have been a statement or a question, although she was about as sure as she could get that it was a statement. He wasn't waiting for her to contradict it, because he knew she wouldn't. One thing was for sure—he didn't beat around the bush.

After hours of flirting, he was closing in like a tenacious hunter. And she was willing prey.

"I love how honest you are," she said, and he knew her words were genuine.

"Harry gave me lessons in honesty and sincerity," he said as he smiled.

"He's obviously a good influence," she agreed.

She wanted him vulnerable—as vulnerable as she herself felt right now. An idea came to her.

"Will you do something for me?"

He nodded without even asking what it was. That showed her he trusted her—at least to a point.

"Will you sing your solo on 'Moments' for me?' she asked, her voice trembling. Trembling because she feared he'd turn her down.

Louis froze, shocked, as this was absolutely the last thing he'd expected her to say. After a few moments, he composed himself enough to ask why.

"It's my favorite, and I love your voice. I'd be so honored if you'd sing it to me."

"But . . . I don't . . . feel sure enough of me voice . . . right now."

Oh, so he was going to blame his lack of confidence in his voice on the desire he was feeling? She knew better.

Nope, she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She gave him a scathing stare to try to bully him into it. But, she already knew by now that no one bullied Louis Tomlinson.

So she tried another tactic. "Come on, Boo Bear. Do it for me?" her voice crooned as she snuggled into his neck, and Louis started to melt around the edges.

He slapped his hand against his thigh in an attempt at courage. "Alright. I'll try. For you."

You would have thought he was getting ready to do the solo in front of an audience of tens of thousands, at a concert. That was how jittery he was. She'd seen his jaw tense like that before a solo many times.

"Serenade me," she purred.

So Louis stepped up to the plate, just to make her happy, and risking a lot more than she knew.

 _Hands are silent_

 _Voices numb_

 _Try to scream out my lungs_

 _It makes this harder_

 _And the tears stream down my face_

It was only a few lines, but it took a great deal out of him. He didn't want to disappoint her. At least his voice had cooperated.

My God, he'd done it so beautifully, and his pitch was perfect. He'd even done the voice crack that she so adored. Tawny was beside herself.

"Lou! That was amazing! Why don't you relax like that at concerts? You have nothing to be self-conscious about!"

He looked as if he didn't believe her at first, but then, when he saw how sincere her eyes were, he realized she really _had_ loved it, and he puffed up a little with pride.

"I can't always trust me voice. It does some strange things, catches me by surprise."

"I think you're just expecting it to happen, and therefore, you _make_ it happen, instead of just going for it, like you did just now. And you see? It was perfect."

"That's open to interpretation."

Nevertheless, Louis was elated. Maybe she was right. Maybe he just needed to _believe_ in his voice. By being hesitant and holding back, perhaps he had actually encouraged his voice to be less than it was capable of. Just as she'd said.

And then he sang her the chorus. He was on a roll now. This was precisely the chorus where she loved hearing him the most. And now he was more self-assured. It sounded like typical Louis-angelic. But then, his fans knew better than anyone how angelic his voice was. And he proved it tonight, right in front of her, sitting cross-legged and proud.

It had taken all the willpower she possessed not to jump on him when he was singing. Her own private Louis concert here in her own bathroom? What in the world could be better?

She was so happy you would think she was the one who had sang. She kissed his cheek over and over. She almost smothered him with her glee, her euphoria. She knew he could sing—she'd always known it because she'd seen him perform beautifully. It only took one bad experience to sour someone, and destroy their self-assurance. And that was, she suspected, what had happened to him.

He tilted his head and gave her his quirky shit-eating grin just the way she'd seen him do so many times before, and that was the straw that strained, and then broke the camel's back. She tried to hold back, but it was no longer an option.

She attacked him—literally. Louis was bowled over because she actually knocked him over—no small feat. Louis was strength, potency and vigor, but her enthusiasm caught him when he was not prepared for it, and therefore not braced. He landed on his back, but promptly sat upright again, and dragged her onto his lap, facing him. Her lips were all over his cheeks, shoulders and chest. Her arms clasped him around the waist, ensuring that he would be going nowhere unless he wanted to drag her along as a fixture on his body.

No matter. He was enjoying it. "What did I say to cause this bit of dodgy behavior? I hope you're not cross, because you nearly did me in."

"I'm sorry. It was positive, not negative. You just made a little gesture that I find endearing."

 _He didn't even realize that he'd cocked his head in a way that she adored._

Her legs were stretched out on either side of his hard, muscular thighs. She smoothed out her knee length night gown with her hands, and the motion did not evade his quick eyes. She saw him surreptitiously watching, but made no comment. She leaned forward and buried her face in his neck. She found it was physically impossible for her to keep up her casual, nonchalant façade that she'd attempted earlier. She doubted she'd appeared nonchalant with him at all because he fascinated her, but she'd tried.

Now that Louis had the green light, his hands began moving toward that nightgown. Resting both hands on her thighs, he eased her nightgown up with an air that was almost lazy in nature. He'd move it an inch or two, then his eyes would raise to meet hers as if he were asking permission, looking for resistance. His confidence never wavered, yet there was no force or insistence.

He made her feel completely safe. Now that she thought about it, Harry would never be with someone who didn't regard another's feelings. In some ways she felt she knew Harry better than Louis, even though she'd never met him. Harry's feelings were usually on vivid display, consciously or not, and Louis could drift just a tad bit toward the mysterious side. Most of the time, now that he was a little older, Louis was serious, yet his comical side had a habit of taking over. And when it did, it was unstoppable. Onstage was an example. But here, at her home, he'd shown her a more thoughtful side of himself. And she had to admit that sometimes she was disoriented with what was truly in his head.

At the moment, he was being rather obvious, she mused. Every time her nightgown hiked up another inch, their eyes met. When it got to the point to where it was just below the apex of her thighs, Louis' voice, soft and practically hypnotizing, made a request.

"Just lay back," he instructed. "Lay back, relax, and just feel . . . "

Tawny tried not to shiver with anticipation, uncertainty, as he put her legs over his shoulders. She laid back until her head was even with his feet, and then felt his hands burrowing down, under her nightgown, to grasp her bottom. A hand on each cheek, he slowly started to raise her. Tawny closed her eyes, not sure where this was going to end up.

At first she thought he was going to explore and touch her, but how could he with both of his hands under her butt? She pondered it for a moment when she felt something moist and gentle wiggle against her most private area.

She jumped—she couldn't have stopped herself it if it were the most important thing in the world to remain still. It was his tongue! Good Lord, but he was licking her! He delved into her, separating her, his tongue lashing so softly she could barely feel it.

An explosion of feeling swept through her. Tingles, sparks, the feeling she got when on a roller coaster—they all united at once and the result was a very weak, panting Tawny. She'd had this done to her before, but that was where the resemblance ended. She'd never had a chance to really _feel_ because it had been such a cursory, fleeting thing. This . . . this was undeniably carnal.

Her extreme wetness made her self-conscious even though she was in a delirium from the magic his mouth worked. But he seemed to delight in it, eagerly lapping and alternating that with sucking. She had the impression he felt he was receiving a gift. A gift to his mouth.

He took his time. He kept up a rhythm that changed unexpectedly from time to time, and that was tearing her apart. She wanted him to _keep_ that rhythm—desperately wanted it, until she realized he was teasing her, and purposely. He would stop, then start up again until she thought bursting was the only answer—the only way to find release. But yet she _couldn't_ burst.

About the time she was almost ready to smack him in utter frustration, he zeroed in on his target- her little button that was so sensitive and ready, and licked it lightly. He teased it, checking to see how hard it was for him, and he wasn't disappointed. He gauged carefully how much pressure she liked. He experimented until he cracked the code.

That was when he stopped teasing and took it so seriously that she wondered if she might lose consciousness, her pleasure was so extraordinary. His tongue, his lips, his heavy sighs of satisfaction and enjoyment caused erotic electrical charges to assault her.

He held her bottom firmly, and with the wisdom he'd accumulated in just a few minutes, he applied the perfect blend of what she wanted.

Tawny felt the building of pressure within her, and it was stronger than she'd ever encountered in her life. She could feel her thighs start to shake, the need to build up in her belly, and she was jolted to realize she was on the path to orgasm. Her legs spread more of their own accord. Never before had she had an orgasm with a man in this way. She wrapped her legs around his neck, thrust up into his mouth, gasped and moaned. Completely out of control, and completely loving it. She was giving herself to him, and nothing in her life had ever felt better.

"Louis! Oh Louis!" she cried at least a dozen times, and then she slipped right over the edge, and her climax shattered all her nerve endings. Louis picked up the pace, sucking her clit more ardently, and she gushed onto his tongue, over and over. The orgasm seemed to go on for hours. Louis stayed glued to her until her spasms finally slowed, and then stopped altogether.

When he finally laid her bottom down on his lap, he licked his lips with an evil kind of glint in his eye.

"That's only the beginning, Tawny," he said.


	12. Chapter 12

Tawny could hardly look Louis in the eye after that mind blowing orgasm he'd just given her with his mouth and tongue. And it wasn't only because her vision was swimming with the remnants of the ecstasy. Here she'd been, spread-eagled on the bathroom floor, and he'd pulled her up to his face—and feasted. How was she to look him in the eye?

"You really _are_ bashful," he said. "I love pleasing you, and I'd love to do it some more."

 _Oh God. He wanted to do it again._

So she hugged him. At least this way, she didn't have to look at him. It had been so lustful, and it felt like it had been packed full of sin. _Delicious sin._

He embraced her so closely, so sweetly, that her heart lodged in her throat.

"Not right now. I'm . . . I'm still in . . . "

"Shock," he finished the sentence for her. "I'm getting so I know what you're going to say."

Was it really _that_ obvious? That she was so clueless, and by the way, was this what sex was really supposed to be like?

"If you are with Harry, how did you . . . get that knowledge? How to satisfy a woman?" she asked, fighting her shyness, trying to fill the silence, and terribly curious as well.

Louis smiled against her neck. "Well you see, it's like a little penis . . ."

Oh! Of course! A clitoris was a miniature penis! Why hadn't she made that connection?

She cleared her throat, not having a clue what to say to that. "I see . . ." she said lamely.

"You stimulate it in the same way, only on a much smaller scale," he went on.

Okay, that was enough. She _had_ to change the subject. It seemed that, at the moment at least, Louis didn't know how to be the least bit prudent about discussing sex, and the finer details of it. He was just too much. Too much sensuality, too much fun, too much _her type._ He was everything the others had not been.

When she shifted in order to get more comfortable, she saw the long shaft in his pajama bottoms sticking straight up. Louis' forearm made a pitiful effort to conceal it, but it was a lost cause.

He sighed and seemed to give up on it, shrugging his shoulders. "Happens to the best of us," he said with forced bravado when their eyes connected. She wondered how he could act so cool about it until she noticed he was gritting his teeth.

Louis was trying not to dwell on it, but how could he _not_ dwell on it? He'd just coaxed an amazing orgasm out of her, and his cock was protesting, big-time. Wanting more . . .

Tawny sucked in a breath through her teeth. How she wanted him naked, so she could see his physique! She'd seen just enough to stir herself up, provoke her.

Louis was just wondering how he could possibly survive this, when she looked up at him and asked,

"Can I touch?"

 _Could she touch? Oh dear God, yes._

I'd love that," he said softly. He'd picked that simple sentence because he didn't want to jeopardize everything by saying the wrong thing. And Harry always responded positively to it. As far as this type of talk was concerned, Harry was a good indicator, a good baseline as to what was acceptable. Louis always tried to say, "I'd love it," or "I'd love to" whenever Harry mentioned something intimate. He always said it with feeling too. And of course, only if he really meant it. And he almost always did. Wait . . . why was he thinking of Harry again?

She could tell he was holding his breath as her hand crept ever so slowly toward his tented pajamas. She'd always balked at this kind of thing, and wondered if she might be considered frigid. She wondered if Louis thought that. She was a little afraid there was something wrong with her. But this was different—she was fascinated by him. She actually _wanted_ him naked. _Wanted_ to touch him.

Her fingers barely grazed him. It was sweet torture. Louis prayed that she'd do something quick, because he feared he'd grab her hand and wrap it around himself if she didn't have a go within a few seconds. He was dying for a promising move from her.

Louis' head swam with delight as she carefully caressed his dick through the pajamas. He reminded himself she was bruised and battered from past boyfriends who didn't give a shit about her, so he tried not to scare her. He breathed deeply, assuring her of how good it felt by clasping her waist with this hands and closing his eyes, letting his head fall back against the cabinet below the sink. Giving himself to the sensations.

Her hand, so much smaller than Harry's, and so soft and tender. It was now sliding smoothly up and down his cock. As if she was afraid to really pump him the way he liked Harry to do.

"It won't break," he gasped, swallowing down a strangled plea for more stimulation.

Tawny, fully engaged and absorbed in his feel, couldn't remember another penis that was so big and thick. She wanted to see it. Touching it through his pajamas was nowhere near enough. She stuck her hand through the hole in front and touched his bare skin.

Louis gasped and moaned in the same breath, not even knowing how that was possible. This was bullshit. They were adults, they were both nearly naked, and it was ridiculous not to shed what little they were wearing. He removed his pajama bottoms while remaining seated, and then immediately removed her nightgown, with no hesitation evident. The nightgown was in a bunch at her waist by now anyway, hiding nothing. Useless.

He gauged her reaction carefully before leaning forward to hug her. He'd seen her eyes taking him in. Her sensual lips were moist, her eyes huge as she admired—or at least he _hoped_ she admired, his package.

"My gosh . . . it's just enormous!" she exclaimed, unable to keep from stating her impression. She felt the heat in her cheeks as they turned crimson.

He held her close, breathed against her ear, and said, "You think mine is big—you should see Harry. He's magnificent."

He had run a risk by saying it. It could certainly be hazardous, but it was his hope that his statement would turn her on, as earlier talk of Harry had. And as luck would have it, he had aced it.

Her silence informed him she was curious, if not outright enthralled.

"If we're gonna talk about _that,_ I think you should go open up another bottle of champagne," she giggled. She was only teasing, but he took it seriously.

"Right—I'm off. Be back straightaway," and he left the bathroom.

As he set out down the hallway with that little bit of bounce to his step, swinging his arms, she realized he DID have a swagger after all. It hadn't been her imagination. Sass with swag. Who could resist a little attitude along with style? Not her, apparently. She could see him sassing until Doomsday, and she could see herself kissing the sass right off his lips and turning it into passion.

She shut the bathroom door before he looked over his shoulder and caught her staring. Now _that_ would be humiliating. She couldn't get over how he'd just walked out there so casually and cavalier. Completely naked, knowing cameras were everywhere. He'd had an erection too. She smiled and shook her head. Add audacious to his list of distinctions.

It was late. It had to be. She didn't want it to end. If only she could keep him a little longer.

 _Midnight doesn't last forever. Dark turns to light._

She wanted to hold this night in the palm of her hand and never lose her grip—keep her fingers tightly wrapped around it so that she'd have it with her always. Louis was proving to be all that she'd hoped he would be, with healthy doses of lots of many other fascinating traits she hadn't even thought of. He was good, he was bad. He was hysterically funny, and he was disturbingly serious. He'd gotten way more than his share of versatility when he was created.

His tan forearms flexed as he twisted the top off the champagne bottle. Those arms that were so hard, so toned, the veins prominent as he put muscle into it. Her desire was sharp in that moment, like a thousand tiny pins prickling all over her body.

The taste of the champagne seemed so much smoother on her tongue this time around. She supposed she was becoming accustomed to it, and besides that, it reminded her of Louis. From now until eternity, the taste of champagne would have Louis written all over it. Nope, she'd never be the same.

And by God, when he walked back in the door, he _still_ had an erection! He acted as if he was fully clothed and not sporting a _very_ prominent hard-on. How did he pull it off, she wondered. With supreme confidence, that's how. Now if he could only transfer that kind of confidence to his singing voice. Belt it out, like he did in the choruses.

"You know when Harry goes crazy during the song 'Infinity?'" she asked as they sat sipping from their glasses.

Louis nodded. "I know what you're gonna say," he quipped.

"What?" she challenged.

"That it turns you on. Well, I've got you beat by a mile. I get as hard as I am right now just by seeing it."

At first she thought he was joking, he just had to be, but soon it was apparent he wasn't. He got that far-off look on his face again that appeared when he was thinking of Harry. So he, as well as herself and all the screaming fans felt the same way.

"You're right!" she cried.

Louis continued. "And when he spews water in the air like a whale at the beginning of 'Better Than Words,' oh mercy," Louis had turned pale, and looked as if he couldn't form more words.

Okay, well, now she knew she wasn't alone. She'd wondered if it was common or normal to feel as she did when Harry did such wild and uncharacteristic things like that. The unexpected. Unexpected and colossally sexy.

Louis smiled, still encased in his Harry-induced haze. "Being almost shy in interviews, then becoming a mad man, although briefly, onstage gets me hot every time, and that son-of-a-bitch knows it," Louis somehow said this with affection lacing his words. "He's sneaky. He knows it makes for a good show, but he also knows what it does to me."

Now that they were both entertaining their own fantasies about Harry, Louis tugged Tawny's hair to bring her face down to his so he could kiss her. His timing was perfection, just like the rest of him, she mused.

 _Why did he turn her on so much? He was swamping her with need._

She'd slipped her nightgown back on while he was fetching the champagne, but he'd disposed of it promptly when he'd returned. No questions asked—he just did it. And that turned her on too. Massively. They were both naked, and Tawny was steadily losing her modesty.

When they began kissing again, it was debatable if she would devour him whole. She poured herself all over him. Louis almost recoiled at first because she was so amorous, so do-or-die. So unlike herself from what he'd seen so far this evening. It as if she was another woman. What had happened to her? But her terrific passion fueled his own lust, and he found that it ultimately enraptured him.

They were still sitting up, but close to toppling over because they were practically consuming each others' mouths. Tawny was sucking at his lips, his tongue, his very _soul,_ and throwing herself into it like she was sacrificing herself.

Louis was not one to alarm easily, and he was not threatened in the least. He was a very sexual person, so he turned her loose, and also gave himself authorization to ravish her.

They continued to talk about Harry, because, wrong or not, it fired them both up. Louis told her the knock-knock jokes she hadn't already heard. "They're almost never dirty," Louis said. "Even most of the ones he tells just us lads. Harry is a treasure in his own way."

Tawny then admitted she loved to watch Louis twerk. He seemed to be the only one who had it down cold. Louis admitted it gave him a rush. All those people's eyes on him—wow, Tawny wondered if it aroused him. She'd read somewhere that Elvis had gotten aroused by all the attention and adulation he got while onstage. And with those skinny jeans and Louis' size—how would he possibly hide it?

"It comes with practice," joked Louis, referring to his talent at twerking, that roguish grin teasing her. "And another thing I just thought of. Harry gets off on me saying Oi-Oi."

Oh, Harry was a hoot! Tawny had secretly thought it was adorable too. She and Harry seemed to share a mutual admiration for Louis and his quirks.

"Really? I love it too. What exactly does it mean, though?" Tawny had often wondered about that.

"Slang for 'hey' in Britain. But I use it for various purposes. One is tickling someone. I lunge in for the kill, yell 'Oi-Oi' to distract the victim and jab a tickle to the ribs. But really, it can pertain to anything. Surprise, happiness, excitement, but it's never negative."

 _Now, why did she find him so fascinating?_

Louis had a never ending supply of stories, jokes and anecdotes. They laughed so hard that Tawny felt giddy. The second glass of champagne was contributing to it, so she stopped drinking it at that point. She felt good, uninhibited and carefree, which was ideal, and she didn't want to drink so much as to smudge a single memory of tonight. So she placed her second empty glass on the counter. He followed her lead and did the same.

She loved a man who made her laugh, and Louis, when he wasn't kissing her, kept her in stitches. He changed from sexual and vigorously passionate to a jester on discriminative stimulus.

"Stop making me laugh! You're incorrigible!" she mock complained. Lying back to rest her stomach from the laughing spasms, she found herself with her head in his lap. Actually, it was on his thigh. That hard, muscular thigh that enabled him to clear Liam's head in a bound that looked effortless, only the palms of his hands pushing off on Liam's shoulders. The image was still fresh in her brain. Those thighs that constantly ran and kicked soccer balls on the field.

His most intimate part was right by her ear. And still hard, by the way. She was so acutely aware of it. She'd had an orgasm and he hadn't. She wanted him to feel what she'd felt. Lost in a prolonged, staggering, breath stealing climax. Oh … to do that to him! Would he be a boring lover, or would he fully throw himself into it? Judging by the way he kissed, she'd bet on the latter.

Her fingers strayed again. She was on her back, and not facing it head-on, thank God. When at last her fingers came into contact with it, Louis gasped and his hips involuntarily lifted just a little bit. As if he was trying to fight it. Once again, she felt that surge of her feminine power.

Staying on her back, her hand slid along his cock, which was standing almost straight up toward his navel. Her fingers teased, flicking here and there in a hasty miniature caress.

He didn't want to deflect her, but this was just too much tantalizing, causing sensory overload. He didn't want fluttering fingers, damn it, he wanted her hand around him, stroking him. The thought must have sprung from his head to hers, because she turned onto her stomach, laid across his lap and began to do just that. Stroke him with her hand.

"Ahhhh . . ." he couldn't stop the exclamation of pleasure. She promptly kissed the base of it, rubbing her cheek against it afterward. Louis was glad he hadn't recoiled, automatically thinking she was one of those women who liked to get off on teasing a man. She was just shy, that was all. And now she was finally breaking free of that demure, timid tendency.

Funny, she'd never wanted to do this before with anyone else. Soon her tongue replaced her cheek. Moist and soft, sliding up the length of his cock. His raspy, primal heavy breathing encouraged her, made her become wet between the legs, urged her to settle at the head of his cock and enclose it between her lips.

The sexual tension and heavy breathing were so thick that Tawny was surprised the bathroom mirror wasn't fogged up. Not that she was even looking at the mirror. She'd never enjoyed this part of sex. Had never initiated it before. Always felt it was required of her to go through the motions much like a robot. Her actions right now were anything but mechanical. She actually wanted it—wanted to please him, and with every heavy sigh that came from him, became more passionate herself. The desire came in waves, warm, fluttery feelings infusing her pelvis.

This was how it should be—mutual. Getting off on what your partner is getting off on, and enjoying it fully when it's your turn. His sighs became moans as she tickled the underside with the tip of her tongue, then went back to holding the tip in her mouth, experimenting, finding out what pushed his buttons just as he had with her. When she took more of him into her mouth, his entire body jerked, and he made slight thrusting motions.

It was trial and error, and in no time she found she was becoming quite proficient. When she sucked, Louis acted as if he were taking his last, dying breath. Her excitement fed off his until they were boneless and flailing around with the pleasure that seemed boundless. She was just as aroused when giving him pleasure as she'd been when he'd done the same to her. She feared that one touch of her hot spot with his hand would set her rocketing to the Heavens with another orgasm.

Tawny sucked harder, flicking her tongue and bobbing up and down on his length. Louis' hands captured the back of her head, not pushing, but giving her encouragement, letting her know she was doing the right thing. Her heart soared, knowing very well the enjoyment she was bringing him.

His hips rocked, and he thrust faster and faster, taking care not to choke her, clearly trying to hold on to a tiny degree of control. He let out a very loud sigh, stiffened, and she knew he must be on the cusp of an orgasm.

"I'm . . . I'm, oh God," he sounded drugged and helpless against the onslaught of sensation shooting through him. She knew how he felt—she'd felt stronger sensations than ever before in her life when he'd brought her to orgasm with his mouth.

He pushed her back suddenly, breaking the contact, alarm in his eyes as he erupted. The spurts were incredibly strong, the volume immense. It covered his belly, chest and neck, nearly hitting his face. Seven times he spasmed, groaning and sounding like a wounded animal until, at last, he crumpled to a fetal position.

His breathing was heavy in the air, and Tawny knew that he'd barely broken away from her in time. She wondered how he was feeling, what he was thinking.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly after a minute or so. His skin was slick and shiny with his exertions. He was beautiful in a light sweat, his hair falling over his eyes.

"Okay? I'm brilliantly okay!" he answered haltingly, still fighting to get enough air into his lungs. "You're so good . . . I didn't expect that . . . with your dodgy history . . . with guys," he explained.

"You gave me the confidence I needed, and the _desire._ Before, there was none. _"_

"Just don't wanna hurt you," he repeated his earlier words, and she knew it was for her own good, but it still stung a little. A gentle reminder . . .

But in spite of his cautionary words, Tawny was proud. She had made him come, and hard. She imagined Harry must be an expert, so she took this as a huge compliment. She felt overpowered by him, even though he wasn't touching her. She busied herself with cleaning him up with a washcloth, noting he was still hard. Her eyes widened, wondering now if she'd done a good enough job.

Louis saw the concern on her face. "That just means you were massively good, and I'm still hungry for you."

On his back now, he pulled her over on him. There was an air of mastery about him. She looked down into those strikingly blue eyes and time paused. Then Louis' funny, serious and confident side exhibited themselves all at once.

"Would you like me to flip you over and take you . . . or maybe just lay back and let you ride me?" his voice caressed the words.

Oh, did he have any idea what he was getting himself into?

 _How in the world was she going to give him back to Harry?_


	13. Chapter 13

_Did she want him to flip her over and take her?_

 _Or did she want him to lie back and let her ride him?_

Oh, this boy was full of surprises. Chock full of sass and even fuller of cheekiness. Was he making a joke? Tawny didn't know whether to laugh, take him seriously and be offended, or be perplexed. She had a feeling he was putting out feelers, testing her.

Her need for his body was becoming a necessity. It was more than unsettling. It was downright worrisome. Yes, she wanted him to take her. And not just sexually. She was afraid that if he stuck around too long, he'd have the ability to rip her heart out of her chest. What a disconcerting thought. A thought that was too dark to bear.

So she didn't answer. She just stayed where she was, peering down at him, letting his inquiring expression stray over her face and her body. He wasn't shy about looking, and now that they'd shared such marvelous intimacy, he didn't hold back or try to stifle it.

"Take me-?" she said, phrasing it as a question.

That was all he needed to hear. In a flash he had her back in one smooth, swift move. The air rushed past her ears, and there she was, underneath him. And now, instead of looking up, those aqua blue eyes were looking _down_ on her. And looking quite smug too. Or maybe it was the fact that he gave off an independent, self-possessed vibe. His hands encouraged her thighs to open, then nudging one leg between them.

He lavished her with a long, sensual, soul-searching kiss that molded his lips to hers, a kiss that left her with a pounding heart and no control.

 _No Control._ That song was so hot, so urgent. Every time she heard it she could almost see Harry and Louis . . . _Waking up beside you I'm a loaded gun . . . I can't contain this anymore . . .I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control. Powerless . . . and I don't care it's obvious . . . I just can't get enough of you . . . the pedal's down, my eyes are closed. No control._

He made damn sure she was ready. Both in mind and body. His lips coaxed her nipples to harden like pebbles, and the way his mouth worked on them caused her dampness to become wetness, until finally, she was soaked. He sucked, he nipped, he teased. He was reeling her in, just as surely as he used to reel Harry in with that imaginary fishing line on stage.

His fingers were working their way down to her sex. Trickling lightly, giving her goose bumps. Torturously slow. Now that his thigh was wedged between hers, he had free access. His finger brushed against her clit on his way down, causing her to half flinch and half beg with conflicting emotions, fighting her desires with a very dull blade.

His finger disappeared between her folds, and he paused at the opening before sliding it inside, straight in and out as well as rotating in a circle. He did this for several minutes before he angled his finger up, found her G-spot and rubbed it lightly. He combined this with wet kisses and nuzzles to her neck.

Tawny cried out and her hips bucked. He grinned, victory claiming his execution. He massaged and stimulated it a bit more before adding another finger. She was tight, and he could tell she hadn't had a man inside her for a while. Her soft walls grasped at his fingers, pulsing in an erratic rhythm.

He took a strange pride in the fact that she was dripping wet. He'd warned her, he reminded himself sternly, but still, guilt stabbed at him. This was solely her decision. He'd made certain of that. He'd made sure she understood. There would be nothing permanent. He'd intended to remain in charge of his desires. But there was no hiding the fact that he was slowly, surely, losing control. And to his surprise, affection was playing a big part in it. Tawny clutched him, burying her face into his neck, demonstrating the same sentiment.

"Mmmm . . . love that the champagne makes you even cuddlier." Louis took his aggressiveness up a notch and guided himself toward her entrance. Tawny was writhing so much, and looking so sexy that he felt a little disoriented. His aim was not as good as he'd thought. But that was alright, because she helped him, and he slipped inside.

It wasn't all smooth sailing though. He was large, and she had trouble accommodating him at first. He nudged into her slowly, by degrees, until she was actively moving with him, then he put the pedal to the metal. He started with short, quick movements, and those turned into strokes. Long and slow. His hips rolled fluidly, the sensuality of his lips on her nipples at the same time ramped her libido higher than she had known it could climb.

"You feel slick, you know. Moist and welcoming," he murmured. "I'm having trouble getting me lust under control."

"You don't have to."

He ground into her then. He took care not to hurt her, but he also indulged himself. His little grunts became moans, his movements more steady and rhythmic. He reached down and tickled her clit. Her abdomen tightened as she felt an orgasm sneaking in.

His movements now became more on the wild side, his eyes closed and he hummed a growl. Her legs were wrapped around his thighs, and they were tightening, her pelvis coming up to meet him on every stroke. Her need was palpable. But would just anyone have done just as well? He wondered about it briefly, and banished the thought. She'd been so shy—and she'd admitted, after all, that she felt as if she already knew him because she'd followed him on a regular basis online for the last few years. So, in a way, it wasn't as if they were strangers.

The searing, pounding ache in her middle was overtaking her. He seemed to sense when she wanted it more slowly, when she wanted it harder, faster. Louis' hips moved more urgently now. His thrusts were sure and solid. Soon he was moving so fast that she couldn't keep up, so she just hung on with her arms around his neck and her legs around his thighs. Held on for dear life. His grunts escalated, his lips sought out her nipple, sucking hard. When it happened, they reached the summit almost at the same time.

He came hard. Loud. So did she. She felt him spurt into her more times than seemed reasonable. He kept moving even afterward, and she squeezed him from inside, expressing every last drop, milking him dry, until they collapsed in stereo exhaustion.

 _He was Harry's. This was just to be a night of fun, a night of adventure._

Tawny kept saying that to herself. This young, virile man, every older woman's dream _._ Every younger woman's dream. _But gay._ Or at the least, bi. She knew without being told that he preferred Harry, else he wouldn't be with his curly lover, in a relationship. And he _had_ told her, in a finespun, refined way. God bless him.

"It was beautiful, that," he said softly into her neck, still on top of her, supporting most of his weight on his forearms so as not to crush her.

"Yes," she managed to croak out.

After some afterglow and cuddling, Louis felt more comfortable talking frankly and openly with Tawny.

"The cameramen would have loved _that_ one."

"I suppose they would have loved everything we did in here," she waved her hand, indicating the bathroom. "We ought to go out there and give them a show," she giggled, not being serious, but she thought she detected a spark of interest in his eyes. In just a few short hours, she was picking up vibrations from him, just as he had admitted he'd been doing with her.

Louis' mischievous side was playing peek-a-boo with her again. "As you must know already, I'm uninhibited for the most part," he said. "And anything in that category would be the lady's call," he smiled and cocked his head, his eyes crinkling in that endearing way, leaving her wondering if he was kidding around or not. With him, it was sometimes hard to tell.

"They won't have much of a TV show, the way things are now," she said, watching his reactions closely.

"No, actually not at all. A lot of talk, some kissing, then disappearing into the loo, and coming out only for champagne. Just enough to infuriate them. But . . . remember Tawny, they said we were held to nothing. We are not obligated to let them see a thing. It's not part of the contract. I double and triple checked it."

His voice was reassuring. She felt completely safe that he would never try to push her into anything she didn't feel right about. At the same time, some vaguely tempting yet disturbing thoughts were crawling in. The thought of baring her body to the cameras, letting Louis make love to her in front of them was oddly arousing. She could hardly fathom it, but it was there, and it was tickling her desire alarmingly.

 _Wow, where had that come from? What was she, a sicko_?

But she couldn't stop thinking about it. The cameramen would blur out their intimate body parts-that was true. It was just the idea of actually making love with him in front of them. It was horrifying, yet exciting in the same breath. The thought that stuck in her head was that it was such a beautiful thing, such a passionate thing, and she couldn't figure out why she couldn't just dismiss it. If they were to do it, it would be beautiful, partly because of the way she felt about Louis. They were real feelings, not the automatic behavior of an actress, who could turn it on with anyone. Not her. There would be nothing fake about it. Possibly millions of people watching Louis Tomlinson make love to _her._ And it wasn't because he was famous. She would have felt the same about him if he was a nobody. The element of danger caused her irrepressible excitement. Not ever having done anything particularly crazy, it seemed so out there. Yet she loved the concept. She must surely have gone around the bend.

The thought of her mother seeing it though, that was a huge deterrent. What was she thinking? She tried to block it from her mind, knowing Louis was fine with keeping things as they were. If the network had built up the TV show as much as she suspected they had, the audience was going to be very disappointed and possibly incensed that there would only be video of them kissing, when the promotion had promised so much more. Or maybe it hadn't been promoted much yet—she didn't watch that much TV. At least her name had not been announced before the show. That had been in the contract. And only her first name would be mentioned when it was aired. Still, her face would show, and people would recognize her. There were a lot of ramifications. She'd already decided that if they fired her at the law firm because of the show, she'd just find another job. There was always a demand for legal secretaries.

She skittered her fingernails down Louis' spine and he shuddered. Young, virile, strong. All that hard maleness. Swallowing the idea was not easy. The idea of being on national television, on one of the biggest networks, had her wondering if she'd be recognized on the street afterward. It was sure to happen. This was no small thing.

"I was thinking of the lack of a TV show that was promised to the public, as you were saying," she said, explaining her silence. 'But was also fantasizing about what you said about you being uninhibited. As you know, I _am_ inhibited, but something about you brings out the wild in me."

"Oh no, you aren't. You aren't inhibited. I just saw the proof of that. You just needed someone to help you to let go and 'live' a little. But only if you want to," he stressed.

He was right. Look what she'd done with him so far, after only knowing him for a few hours? He made her feel so instinctive, liberated, spontaneous. And she liked that feeling. She wanted to be unbridled and unconstrained, like he was. She envied that in him.

The cards were all on the table. There were no secrets, and he'd been very frank about Harry. That served as an aphrodisiac for Tawny. His honesty. She loved his openness, and that made her want to do sexy things with him. Things that were out of her normal comfort zone. It was about time she break free of all the restraints she'd put on herself. At least for one night.

She'd just have to make sure her mother didn't tune into NBC on the night the show aired.

"Let's do it!" she cried, jarring herself almost as much as Louis.

"A potent two glasses of champagne, that was," commented Louis, his jaw dropping in shock.

"It was four glasses. Remember, I had two earlier," she reminded him.

He waved his hand dismissively. "That was hours ago. It's not affecting you anymore. And you can't possibly be serious." He studied her with cynicism, as if he had qualms about her announcement. Was he reconsidering? Well, she'd find out.

"Oh, but I am serious. We don't have to do anything. We can just go into the bedroom . . . "

"And see where it goes?" he finished the sentence for her. _Again. "_ Let nature take its course?"

She giggled because he had a way of lightening the mood when things got tense. A question came to her. "Would Harry do it?" she looked intrigued. "With you, in front of cameras, I mean?"

Louis' crystalline eyes lit up. "If we were 'out,' I'm pretty sure he would. Harry focuses on lovemaking with everything he has. I doubt if the cameras would bother him. Once he gets going, I doubt if anything short of a bomb would distract him."

Tawny was feeling lusty again. She had to admit that talk about Harry and Louis together did a number on her every time.

"Do you know the most precious thing I've ever seen was when Harry played with the bottom of your shoe during an interview. With just a finger or two. Just wanting to make some kind of physical contact. How many people do that? He loves you to bits!" she couldn't keep it to herself.

"Yeah, he tried to be sneaky, but it was another massive fail. I loved every minute of it though."

"Come on, Superman! Let's go," and she retreated from the bathroom, slipping her nightgown on as she went. She grabbed a robe too, while she was at it.

"Rubbish, Tawny! I can't see you really doing that!" Louis protested, still in the bathroom, shaking his head in disbelief.

 _Was she really going to make love with him in front of the cameras?_

She'd be back. She'd lose her nerve.

As she waited for him in the bedroom, walking to and fro, she reflected on how far they'd come.

"We need to talk about Harry a little bit more to get us really . . . well . . . really in the mood," Louis called out. "And besides that, I'm . . . well, I'm . . . come 'ere so I can tell you."

He knew that would lure her in, and it did.

Shit! She wondered if the microphones had picked up the part about Harry. She wasn't going to mention it though. What was done was done.

Tawny came right back into the bathroom.

"I've gotta, um, _recover_ a bit. After all, I just . . . came twice. I have the libido of a sixteen year old boy. I've come five times within two hours before, but I can't do it non-stop. After a little breather, I'll be fit and ready to go again in half an hour."

Oh yeah, dummy her! Tawny had forgotten guys need a rest period in between.

But five times in two hours? He really _was_ Superman!

Even as she marveled over his comment, her cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking . . . but, what you said. It's impressive!"

Louis changed the subject before he blushed himself.

"Know what Harry said to me this morning?"

"No, what?" she asked, a bit leery of what he might say. She was getting used to talking frankly with him, but still got a little rattled and confounded despite herself.

"He said, 'Ya gotta be over there at eight for your date, mate.' Then he thought he was clever because it rhymed."

They both got a laugh out of that. Harry and his love for rhymes. And knock knock jokes.

"He had trouble letting me go," said Louis, somewhat pensively. " He looked so gorgeous, sitting there with his pink cheeks and pouty mouth, and of course, that curly hair all over the place that beckons to my fingers. He's right beautiful, yeah?"

Tawny wasn't sure how to respond to that query. Yes, of course she thought Harry was beautiful. He was ethereal, too good to be true. But she also didn't want to downplay Louis' looks. He was more rugged, even a little bad ass looking, but very handsome, although not on quite the same level as Harry. Harry looked more like some perfect angel in a dream, Louis more earthy, but just as hot in his own way. His _very_ own way.

She nodded. No way was she going to deny Harry was beautiful.

"Is he tons better looking than me? I know he's better looking, but by how much?"

Tawny thought it over for a moment. This was delicate. She didn't think Louis was less than confident about his looks, but you still had to be careful with how you worded things of this nature. "You and Harry are completely different types, and not to be weighed with the same scale, so to speak," she explained. "Harry is soft, sweet, perfect like an angel. You are robust, very good looking, but not an angel." She smirked just a little bit. "You have little imperfections that Harry doesn't have."

Louis thought about that. "What imperfections stand out?" was his next inquiry.

"Oh, nothing physical, trust me! Have you seen your cheekbones, the angles of your face and jaw, your athletic body? I'm talking about your quick temper and your sassiness. Although, it's all a part of your charm. It's all a part of _you._ And please correct me if I'm wrong about anything." Even though she knew she _wasn't_ wrong. She'd seen both traits in him more than once. The temper and sassiness.

"It's your fooking job, you fooking losa!" She couldn't resist mentioning his infamous comment to the paparazzi.

"Well done, fair enough," he chuckled, a little taken aback that she'd actually say that. He looked less worried, as if he'd feared she would say he was hideous in some way. So, she seemed to accept he was human. That was a good sign.

"Me patience was running thin that night," he said sheepishly.

"Louis, why do you even ask that anyway? I picked _you_ for the date, remember? Not Harry."

Okay, so she had a valid point. At least she thought he was attractive enough to want to have a date with him. That was all that mattered.

After more casual conversation, Louis slipped his pajama bottoms on and took Tawny's hand.

"I never would have dreamed you would have wanted to do this, but I admire your guts. Let's go to your bedroom and let nature take its course," he smiled and crossed his eyes.

"Do that again, and I might get make you call Harry over here to straighten you out," she teased.

"He'd probably enjoy it," Louis' statement was a ruse at making a joke, because, in reality, the thought of Harry coming over tantalized him, and had him mystified as to why it kept clinging to him.

Tawny took a deep, steadying breath and accepted Louis' hand as they walked to her bedroom.

She had to keep telling herself this was an adventure and not to shy away from it, but enjoy. Those extra blue eyes were sliding over her body as they walked.

 _For just a little while. No responsibilities. No deadlines. No guilt. Just pleasure._


	14. Chapter 14

Tawny scraped up the courage to make a request. She felt as if it might be unreasonable, but the pajama bottoms just weren't the same as the skinny jeans. 'Can you put your skinny jeans back on, just for a little while?" she asked as soon as they got to her bedroom, before her shot of bravery deserted her.

"Why?" He looked slightly amused.

"Well, I would think it rather obvious," she tried a smirk, but it presented as a nervous twitch. "They're so tight . . . "

Louis got the message, and was in the bathroom in no time, putting them back on. When he came back in, he closed in quickly, crowding her, and she backed up just as a natural reflex, even though she wanted him close. She lost her balance as the back of her knees hit the bed, and she collapsed on her butt on the edge of the bed.

And there was Louis, standing directly in front of her, in those smoking hot skinny jeans, on his even more smoking hot body, his erection clearly outlined by the tight material. The jeans hugged the firmest, most shapely legs in 1D. His crotch was _right there,_ inches from her face. She looked up at him, and saw instantly that this was truly the serious Louis. His expression was solemn, silliness having been forsaken, and neither of them knew what to do or say. Now that cameras were on them, they both just kind of seized up.

He hadn't meant for her to fall on the bed, and he hadn't meant to end up standing directly in front of her in this way, looking like he was being dominant or alpha, or whatever a person might label it as. So he backed up one step in order to not look quite so overbearing.

As if he was doing nothing out of the ordinary, Louis flattened his hand and inched his palm down his bare belly to the top of his pants. Transfixed, all Tawny could do was watch. She couldn't look away because it wasn't possible. She tried, but her eyes were jammed and immovable.

When his hand continued down, her intake of air was audible. His fingers descended with conviction and resolve, but very gradually. That downward movement toward his crotch that all the boys of 1D occasionally did, but the exception was, it was unusually sensual. And suspenseful. And all for her. No screaming fans, no bright lights, no loud music. Silence, and no one but the two of them.

Louis seemed to disregard the cameras, and he made sure she did as well. He did this by distracting her, and it worked like a charm. His hand settled on his crotch, and he rubbed his erection in a very subtle up and down motion. With her eyes glued to his hand, he moved it barely enough for her to notice. But of course, her eyes were going nowhere but on him.

His eyes looked glazed, the lids heavy and she couldn't help thinking what a sexy beast he was. He looked wickedly carnal.

Louis backed up another step and began to remove his skinny jeans when Tawny's hand shot out, stopping him.

"Come here," she purred, pulling him by the waistband. Since she was now at the perfect height, she laid on her side on the edge of the bed and maneuvered him until she could pull him straight at her face. His crotch, that is. Her tongue snaked out and licked a stripe up the front of his pants.

Whoa! Louis breathed in sharply through his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, just to relish it. That one tongue swipe, and he was wrecked. She looked up at him rather coyly, and his cock twitched, as well as his heart. He wasn't a callous, insensitive person. She was likeable and he respected her . . . _but_ he was also made of flesh and blood. She was making his entire body pulse, right along with his dick. She was sensual, and she was playing with him in a most pleasant way.

In a fog of as yet unfulfilled desire, Louis moaned. It was pitiful, almost like a whine, but he couldn't suppress it. You would never know, by looking at the state he was in, that he'd just had two orgasms not that long ago.

Tawny continued to lick, making the material wet, and he felt the tip of his cock become wet as well. Tawny yanked his pants down, his erection springing free. Louis could hardly believe her audacity. She was enjoying this! And so was he! They were getting off on each other, and on the fact that they knew cameras were on them. He tried to rein himself in, but it was no use.

His skinny jeans around his knees, he didn't even notice, his eyes and mind only on her mouth. He rolled his hips just a little bit, but she drew back, an impish grin ticking the edges of her lips. She breathed hot air on his shaft next, drawing back again when he moved the slightest bit. When she blew on the head of his cock, Louis restrained himself only with great effort.

Some more teasing, and at last, he could withstand no more.

"Please, Tawny," he begged, past the point of caring that he sounded whiny and needy. Harry was good at this, and it seemed Tawny was as well. Harry had been torturing and tormenting him for eons, and now Tawny. _Teasers, they were._ He must be a glutton for punishment.

Tawny saw Louis lick his lips suggestively, the very way she'd seen him do to Harry, with Harry responding right back. She grabbed his butt, hauling him in close, and sucked the head strongly. This was with no warning at all, and Louis very nearly fell on the floor in a dead faint. The feeling was electric, and it went clear to his toes and fingers. The strong suction made him woozy, as if he'd taken a heavy dose of drugs.

Lord Almighty!

His moans and sighs, his uneven breathing sounded so sultry, his eyelids blinking rapidly, and then closing as he threw his head back, completely helpless, dependent only on her to quench his thirst for another orgasm.

The rush enveloped Tawny as she continued on, licking all around the head, and alternating that with sucking. Louis' legs were shaking, his entire body quivering. The vibration went through him and straight into her. He was pumping into her mouth now, fighting the urge to grind hard, knowing she wasn't as skilled as Harry, and therefore not prepared for that.

Right at the cusp of his orgasm, he cried out her name, still softly moaning without pause. He spurted hard, paused for a second, trying to push her away, but she was having none of it. He spurted then without control, because he had reached the end of his rope. He could not wait a millisecond longer.

He spurted again . . . and again. Tawny, never having experienced this before, didn't handle it as well as she had hoped she would. She choked from all the thick fluid suddenly filling her throat. Louis pulled out and finished relieving himself on the bed sheet, still moaning. He slumped over, sweating, breathing rapidly and erratically.

Awkwardly, he apologized after he'd caught his breath and regained his composure. "I'm sorry. I tried to push you away . . . "

"It's okay Louis. I want to . . . learn." She couldn't help the flush of embarrassment that rose to her cheeks. She laid down on the bed. She was still wearing her night gown and robe,

"Wait . . . " he said. "Wanna eat first." Was he hungry _again?_

Yes, but not in the way she thought. He pushed her night gown and robe up to her waist, settled himself between her legs and went down on her, aware of the cameras, but he didn't give a shit. They'd get a show. Maybe not as long as they wanted, and they'd have to fill in the rest of the one hour time slot with talk or whatever, still, they'd get enough of an eyeful to really rivet the audience, alright.

She was so astonishingly wet. He licked up and down her folds, and then thrust his tongue in and out a few times before he went to her clit. She rocked into his mouth, now strangely addicted to the feel of it. And afraid she'd stay addicted to Louis' mouth for the rest of her days. With or without him, she'd never forget it. He coaxed, pulled the orgasm from her before she could even process it. All her nerves tingled and then tightened. One strong last suck on her clit, and she climaxed even harder than when they were in the bathroom. It seemed to go on and on. She couldn't seem to stop coming. The bliss was unendurable, and she finally had to stop him.

A satisfied smirk washed over his face. There was pride in this. He could satisfy Harry, and he could satisfy Tawny.

She lay panting on the bed as Louis carefully undressed her, put her under the sheets, took off his skinny jeans and laid down beside her.

"Need anything?" he asked.

She was horrified. She should be asking _him_ that! This was her house, after all. What a rotten hostess she was!

"No, but if you want anything, we can go to the kitchen together," she murmured, still getting her breath back.

"I'm fine. I know you must be knackered. It's three AM," he said. "Want to grab a few hours' sleep?"

"That would be good. I want to fix you breakfast, so we should get up at seven. Our date is over at eight," she reminded him.

"S'posed to be, but I reckon I can stay a little longer . . . if you'll have me."

Her heart did a flip. He wanted to stay longer than the duration of the "date?"

"I'd love to have you stay longer. But the cameramen will be here at eight to remove all their equipment."

"Any road, I'll get 'em outta here as quick as possible," was his answer to that.

They went into a very peaceful slumber in each other's arms, and Tawny worried briefly about Harry, who she imagined was pacing the floor, or sitting on the couch with his phone in his lap, waiting to hear from Louis. But it wasn't her place to suggest Louis call him. Louis had to do that on his own.

The next thing she knew, Tawny felt as if she were being watched, and opened her eyes to see Louis propped on an elbow, eyeing his watch and her, by turns.

"What do you want for breakfast?" she asked, trying to ignore his sleepy blue eyes that still burned bright, no matter what. No matter how tired he was.

"Let's go into the bathroom," was his answer. Confused, she followed him in.

"Why in here?"

"I needed to tell you Harry fixes me eggs on toast. I wouldn't normally tell you, but since you like to hear stuff like that . . . "

He was right. She did like hearing what Harry made Louis for breakfast. And everything else about the two of them.

"Well, let's see if I can do it right, like Harry does," she said, then kicked him out of the bathroom so she could take a quick shower. While Louis showered, she fixed the eggs and toast, and Louis admitted it wasn't bad. _But not as good as Harry's,_ she thought. But she wasn't jealous. Haz and Boo were a couple, and that was that.

He sat there at the kitchen table, his hair still wet from the shower, and he'd dawned one of his tee shirts that said "British Rogue" across the front. _How accurate was that,_ she mused to herself. She reached over him to rearrange his silverware, and couldn't resist sniffing his strawberry shampoo scented hair, his Ivory soap scented neck. As she drew back, she could have sworn he turned his head slightly to catch a whiff of her own freshly shampooed hair.

"I miss Harry," he said suddenly. Very simple, just a statement. As Tawny was digesting that comment, Louis explained. "Not that your company isn't lovely, but I feel incomplete without him."

After they'd eaten and the cameramen had left, taking every monitoring device with them, both visual and audio, under Louis' watchful, diligent eye, Louis was in no hurry to clear out himself. He had offers of a ride home from several of the crew, and he declined, causing a few raised eyebrows. Tawny had no argument with that—she'd keep him around as long as he wanted to stay.

"Gotta call Harry," he finally said, working his way around the new supply of appetizers they'd been brought until he found what he wanted—a cheesecake bar. Yet again, she loved how he made himself at home and she didn't have to worry about being the perfect hostess.

Looking horrified when Tawny offered him coffee, he was quite content with tea, sipping it with his phone in hand. He was, after all, British. He got Harry on the line with half a ring.

"Gonna stay a little longer. Is that okay with you Curly?" he asked.

There was a pause, but not an overly long one. "Miss you babe. But yeah, stay as long as you want." Being on speaker, there was the tiniest bit of a strain in Harry's voice that Tawny detected, and she had a feeling she would feel just as Harry did if she were in his shoes. He wanted his Boo Bear back. And who wouldn't?

Not a drop of malice in the comment though. Again, Tawny felt a dragging weight on her heart. He had to be hurt, and the yearning for his lover was difficult to deny.

"Um, Lou? You mentioned bringing him to meet me sometime," she spoke slowly and carefully so as not to say the wrong thing.

"You want him to come over today?" Louis' face brightened like a light bulb had been turned on behind his eyes. She got the impression he had been hoping she would say something along those lines.

"I'd love to meet him, if you still feel the same about it."

"Harold, wanna come over 'ere?" Louis' voice carried a jovial tone.

"Why?" Harry sounded flummoxed, yet pleased.

"Just to meet Tawny. There's loads of appetizers of all kinds. They were nice enough to bring a fresh supply this morning." Louis' voice was decidedly flirty sounding, Tawny noted.

With the promise of food, Harry perked up, but Tawny suspected the promise of Louis held much more appeal. After they went home together, Tawny was sure he'd be all over Louis. This ought to be a very enlightening visit. She couldn't wait to see how they interacted with each other.

Louis was a little tired, but nothing like Tawny, who wasn't used to a lifestyle with virtually no sleep, so he suggested Harry come over in the afternoon so Tawny could catch some more sleep. Tawny did take a nap while Louis dozed on and off beside her, but the excitement of meeting Harry kept her from sleeping soundly.

Louis got up from the couch a good minute before Harry's Rover pulled into the driveway. Somehow he'd heard the engine, although Tawny had not. Louis encouraged her to go to the door, although she, almost in a panic, begged him to instead. The thought of opening the door to see Harry was way past daunting.

In the end though, Tawny bravely, standing tall, pulled the door open to someone in a hoodie that was tied tightly around his face, hands in pockets and shoulders hunched a bit. Bright, shimmering emerald eyes peeked out at her. She realized Harry didn't want to be recognized. Of course. He had to be cautious at all times, just like Louis. He couldn't be careless.

She held the door open so he could slip in unnoticed, except for his Rover sitting in the driveway. Harry untied and pulled his hood back, releasing a spray of the most beautiful, thick, shiny curls that she'd ever seen. They cascaded down and over his shoulders. That's when he smiled at her.

And that was when everything else seized to exist. Everything but those green eyes that couldn't possibly be any greener, and that beautiful dimpled smile she'd seen hundreds of times, but in person was about ten thousand watts brighter. She felt like she'd been punched in the chest. Her lungs stopped working, and she just stared at him like an idiot. He couldn't possibly be real. She was really, truly, awestruck.

"Harold, this is Tawny," Louis said. Harry immediately went to hug her. And yes, he smelled like cinnamon and oranges, and his hair like fresh autumn leaves, just as described. Also, just a hint of vanilla clung to him. Probably a vanilla body wash, she figured, but whatever it was, it was more than perfect on him. She wanted to press her nose to him and just breathe him in, and not ever stop.

"Tawny," Harry said softly in that low, slightly gravelly voice.

He was a walking, talking doll straight from the factory, without a scratch or blemish.

The feeling of awe stayed with Tawny. Pure, unabashed awe. She was poised, and proud of the fact that she could manage it, because Harry made her mind whirl, her senses spin like a top.

The hug was sincere, generous and solid. You just knew there was no room for superficiality in Harry. The hug was just too honest. And she knew she'd met a supremely special man.

As soon as the hug ended, Tawny observed Harry's eyes gazing behind her. He was looking at Louis, and she could actually feel the downy softheartedness surround him in an instant. The intrigue was truly there, and no way in hell could he keep it in the shadows.

Harry nevertheless, gave Louis the once-over. Very cooly, he walked over with slow, steady steps to the older lad and circled around him, as if he'd be able to extract the story by doing so. His eyes scoured Louis' body as If he'd never seen it before, up and down, and the appreciation was showing bright in his eyes. When he secured Louis' gaze with his own, Harry put on a Poker face. It was engrossing just to watch the two of them. Tawny was beguiled, and not able to move or say a word.

Louis and Harry continued to exchange gazes. Tawny was a little taken aback by their cool, stiff greeting that could hardly even be called cordial. The passion Louis had spoken of was not present. She had expected something more like a fierce hug, maybe even a frenzied kiss that had a desperate edge to it. Nothing of the kind happened. She supposed they were both tentative because of the uniqueness of the situation they found themselves in. And she found out that she was right . . .

They stared at each other with no blinking or looking away. A thousand lifetimes seemed to pass, and still they stared.

 _What must it be like to be that much in love?_

"Harry," said Louis simply. Tawny found that Harry's name on Louis' lips made her smile, warmed her inside. Looking from one face to the other, her heartstrings weren't being pulled, they were _yanked._

Tawny left the room, pretending to go to the bathroom, to give them a little privacy. She came back just in time to witness a very passionate hug. It had started out with Louis offering a handshake, and Harry responded by roughly pulling him into his chest. They'd held back out of respect for her. It was so sweet to see their dramatic reunion after having been apart for such a short time, but what really shook her up was the fact that it aroused her.

Even with all these thoughts circulating in her head, putting her brain into overload, she still couldn't pry her eyes away from them.

"Hug me properly, Lou Bear," Harry said. Louis melted into him even more. Tawny's heart was surely melting at this point, but in witnessing this hug, she had no heart anymore at all. It was just a sticky, slippery mass of goo on the floor at her feet.

The hug was long, hard, yet gentle. In fact, her initial impression of Harry could be summed up in one word. _Gentle._ He held Louis as if he was protecting him against the world, literally wrapping himself around him. All those tattoos meshing together.

"Missed you," came Louis hushed voice as he buried his face in Harry's hair. You'd think they'd been separated for months.

"Me too," Harry's voice was husky with emotion.

Harry was not skilled at hiding his admiration for his lover. Never had been, she thought to herself with a smile. She thought back to the time Harry had actually sang, "I'm in love with Lou" onstage.

When their hug finally broke, Harry's eyes searched Louis' face, soaking him all in, the lovesickness so clear in his eyes—the soft yearning that Tawny recognized and knew so well from the videos . . .

She felt no trace of jealousy while watching them. They were clearly madly in love with each other. It was true she was going to have to give Superman back to Harry. But Louis had never belonged to her anyway. He'd just been on loan for a while . . .


	15. Chapter 15

"Harry, we need to move the Rover into the garage. Is that alright Tawny?" Louis had noticed her garage was a two-car.

"You're right." With that, the three of them got up, Louis going into the garage with Tawny and opening the garage door for Harry, who was buried in his hoodie again, and in the process of stepping into the Rover. Louis stood back in the shadows, against the a rear side wall of the garage.

 _It must be awful, having to sneak around the way they did!_ Tawny beckoned to Harry as he slipped his Rover in beside her little Toyota. Louis then closed the garage door and a huge sigh of relief came from Harry and Louis at the same moment.

"Don't you get sick of having to slink around in order not to be seen?" asked Tawny. They nodded in unison, and Louis shrugged one shoulder slightly. "It's a fact of life for us now," he explained nonchalantly.

"Haz, what a bad ass exhaust system! When'd you get that?" Louis' eyes were glued to Harry's Rover.

"This mornin.' I was anxious about comin' 'ere, and it killed some time. Got it in and out in a few hours," was Harry's answer.

"Man, that's siiiiiick," said Louis, and Tawny remembered how he used that word a lot in his tweets.

Tawny watched Harry saunter back into the house behind Louis. She noted he had Louis' swagger, but to a lesser degree. She guessed it was because they were together so much that they'd picked up some of each other's habits. She wasn't usually one for long hair on guys, but Harry was just heart stopping. And his boots—oh Lord! Black leather St. Laurent harness boots. The heels clacked on the concrete on the way from the garage to her back door. Louis and his sneakers, Harry and his boots.

When they all sat down on the couch and loveseat, you would have thought it would be awkward at the very least, but Louis kept things light-hearted. Naturally gregarious, he brought them together, bringing in a tray of appetizers, and planning with Harry to order pizza a little later on. The conversation was light and easy.

The sun shone through the window, and Tawny loved how Louis' hair was all fluffy from being washed and no products used in it except shampoo and conditioner. It shone like a copper penny, although not quite as dark in hue. He had to keep brushing it away from his face, and she loved watching him do it. He sat alone on the loveseat, while Harry and Tawny sat on the couch, getting to know each other.

Harry was so fresh, like a breath of crisp ocean air, and amazingly humble. He was fascinating from the moment he opened his mouth. He did, as she had hoped, relax in a short time. It didn't take long to see the real Harry that had been lurking, modified and a touch doubtful, under the surface.

It seemed that with Harry, well, he had a most interesting sense of style that was all his own. He was unafraid to make bold statements, and it worked for him. He was a virtual chameleon. It was all about extremes. Depending on his mood, he could wear plain white tee shirts and still look devastating, or loud colored and patterned shirts. The St. Laurent suits came out for award ceremonies. He had been voted in the top ten most fashionable men. Today he had a black silk shirt on with white zig zags that looked like lightning, the already short sleeves rolled up and several buttons undone, as was always the case. Harry didn't mind baring his chest, and in fact, often went around naked at the house, much to the other lads' dismay because they always had to warn Harry when someone was coming over. And of course, the black skinny jeans that were a staple with 1D. So he and Louis were in mostly all black, and Tawny wasn't complaining a bit. They looked stunning in black.

Harry was all gentleman, letting her talk, never interrupting, and maintaining eye contact to show his interest. He was much easier to understand too, probably because he talked so much more slowly than Louis and his accent wasn't as thick. He was a delight, and naturally very funny, like Louis. He was perfectly proper at all times, and he treated her as if she were royalty. And she'd thought Louis was sweet!

The hours fairly flew by, and when the pizza arrived, Tawny had to open the door to the delivery guy. Word would get around like wild fire who he'd seen at her house, and soon they'd have a mob outside. What must it be like to have to live like that your entire life? Hiding all the time, afraid of being swarmed by delirious, grasping fans.

"You're lovely, Tawny. No wonder Louis wanted to stay longer," Harry's eyes speared her, looking for some kind of reaction, she figured. Louis and Harry had not been alone, and she'd heard both their phone conversations since Louis had been here, so she knew they hadn't had a moment to themselves for Harry to ask questions about what happened last night. She knew he was bursting at the seams to know. But there was nothing she could do about it. Louis would have to tell him.

It took only a couple of hours, and at the end of that time, Tawny felt like she'd always known Harry. And he had to be the biggest contradiction alive.

On stage he was all showman, a fabulous announcer and he knew how to get the audience involved. He didn't really dance, but he had a lot of moves that drew you into the experience. He flowed through your veins like a forbidden substance. He held you captivated.

His stage presence was a form of the "real" Harry in one sense, but even more so was his quiet spirit when off stage.

He was precisely what Louis had said he was. Shy, sweet and adorable without even making an effort. The depth of his soul was so pure it took Tawny's breath away.

And the two of them—forced to remain silent. It was such a disgrace, so shameful that they could no longer be themselves on stage or in interviews.

At the same time, she couldn't help thinking about their different behaviors, and what had drawn them together. But as time went on, she was seeing they were more alike than what met the eye. They both cared deeply for humanity, were romantic and had a staggering sense of humor. They both knew how to chat someone up.

"Louis, you're a cute little rebel hedgehog, and Harry, you're the gentlest soul I've ever met," Tawny couldn't help saying something about how they affected her. And this summed it up pretty well. Louis the charming bad boy, simply irresistible, and Harry, the sensitive open book, the one who could cast spells on just about everyone, male or female.

Tawny, mesmerized by Harry, tried not to stare. He had two rings on one hand and three on another. One was blue and the others were black. Without gawking, it looked like the blue one might be turquoise and the black ones might be black jade or onyx. It was very difficult to act casual around him when all she wanted to do was look at him endlessly and pepper him with questions.

Louis was spread out on the loveseat, sitting back carelessly, with his arm along the top of the cushions, completely at home, and looking confident as hell. Harry picked up on it and soon all the tension seemed to drain out of the atmosphere. Tawny was pretty sure Louis was pouring on the satisfied fat cat act to assist Harry in his quest for relaxation.

They were starting to stare at each other again. Tawny had a sneaking suspicion they had stopped for a while in order to ease her mind. But the attraction between them was so strong that it couldn't be swept under the rug, or whisked away like dust on a tabletop. It was pounding in its intensity, and she could swear she could hear the throb of it in her ears. It was heavy in the air and also in her heart. She liked Louis so much, yet she loved the fact that they were in love. These two belonged together, but she couldn't help feeling just a little bit of grief, knowing that she had no chance of winning him over. Harry was all he could see—that was a fact.

They were flirting, but they also seemed to be flirting with her too. That had her bemused. Harry was acting rather furtive, yet obvious at the same time, and she'd be damned if she knew how he managed that.

She hoped this infatuation with both these boys wore off at least slightly, because they were in love with each other, and she'd quickly become a nuisance in their eyes, causing them to want to split. And she was wanting too much from them already. Much more than she deserved. She wanted their friendship, even if it meant she had to be a—shudder—mother figure to them to get it. But being just friends, or surrogate family members when they were in the U.S. and away from their real families was better than nothing.

Louis was the best lover she'd ever had, but she had to admit that she was excruciatingly curious about Harry, and to be brutally honest, she wouldn't kick him out of bed either. But this kind of thinking was all fantasy, especially when this staring looked like it wouldn't be ending anytime soon.

"I reckon we're bein' rude, Harry. Tawny, smile! Happy days!" Louis startled Tawny out of her daze.

"We cahn't be ignoring you, and we don't mean to. It's just that we're a little . . . sweet on each other," explained Louis, and this brought on a huge blush from Harry, his dimples deepening so much that Tawny had to fight to keep her heart from combusting. The guy was prettier . . . no, more _beautiful_ than any girl she'd known.

Harry looked like he was smirking much of the time, and Tawny, if she hadn't already "known" him through videos, might have gotten the impression that he was a pretentious asshole, but it was just the way Harry half-smiled. He wasn't in the least conceited as any normal person would have expected him to be. He was just _cute,_ no matter what kind of expression he wore. And the pseudo-smirk just left Tawny wanting to see more. And her desire for Louis was bottomless, so she was fighting a losing battle no matter how you looked at it.

"Want champagne, or beer or something baby?" asked Louis of Harry. Realizing he'd let the endearment slip, his gaze shot to Tawny, who was trying to hide a knowing smile. _She'd caught it._

"Beer's fine, Tommo. Thanks." Harry finished up his slice of pizza, trying to will his cheeks not to flush _again_ , and then began asking Tawny all about her life. She soon found out Harry was just like Louis. He was genuinely interested in her and what she fancied in life. She wondered if all the 1D guys were this thoughtful.

"Any appetizers, Harry? Tawny?" Louis called from the kitchen.

"No thanks, mate," well, at least Harry hadn't answered with an endearment, but Tawny did notice the soft tone Harry's voice carried when he spoke to Louis. Soft eyes, soft voice. And all for Louis.

Louis, always the picture of confidence, felt like jelly inside. He was flying blind on this one. Should he act affectionately with Harry, as he did when they were alone? Or should he treat him as a casual friend in front of Tawny? Should he sit next to Tawny, or have her sit between them? Should he show Tawny any affection? No matter which way he went, it could potentially cause problems, or make either one of his friends feel uncomfortable, and he didn't want to chance that.

So when he came back into the living room, he grabbed Harry's wrist, telling Tawny they needed to have a private word, and hauled Harry in to the bedroom.

 _Big mistake._ Louis felt himself hardening as they walked down the hall, and by the time they got to the bedroom, he was fully erect. In skinny jeans. Harry worked magic on him.

Louis proceeded to tell Harry all about the night before, leaving no stone unturned. Harry soaked it in, looked thoughtful for nearly a lifetime (or so it seemed to Louis) then nodded.

"I figured as much," Harry said so slowly that Louis wondered if the planet might disappear into oblivion before the words came out. But that was just Harry's way. Easy going and turtle-slow. You had to be patient, because Harry liked to measure his words.

"You aren't cross with me?" inquired Louis.

"No, Boo. You're my little bean. And you and I . . . we haven't kissed yet." Harry made his pouty face, and that was something Louis had never been able to resist. It paralyzed him, made it impossible to turn away. He coiled his fingers in Harry's silky soft hair, pulling his lover's lips to his. Harry kissed him back with a fervor. It was hot. Scorching, in fact. Only separated overnight, and they were way beyond avid for each other. Harry's arms encircled Louis' shoulders, pulling him ever closer.

The kiss didn't last nearly long enough for either of them.

"We have to get back out there, or we'll end up on the bed, and get caught out, and that might not go over well, yeah?" Louis struggled to get sufficient air into his lungs.

"It's damn tempting though, it is," replied Harry.

"Can you not tell it's tempting for me too? God, I want you, Styles," murmured Louis into Harry's neck, sucking at his soft skin and making the hairs on Harry's arms stand straight up. He made a strangled noise, stopping Louis in his tracks.

"You'd better stop. You're gonna make me come," whined Harry. Their pelvises were pushed up tight to each other, and Louis hadn't been able to help grinding up against Harry gently. The way Harry so often did to him. A soft, teasing kind of rubbing.

"You're the most sexual person I've ever known," said Louis with admiration highlighting his words.

"I've never wanted anyone like I want you." Harry had always been like this around Louis, and before long, Louis had caught the bug, being hot on Harry's trail whenever he had the chance to get him alone. It was contagious, and it was deadly.

"Come on, we need to get back to Tawny. We're being rude. Think of something unpleasant to get rid of that woody," Louis prodded. Then he left Harry in the bedroom, noticing Tawny was now on the love seat, and he sat down beside her. He knew she'd changed places so he and Harry could sit next to each other on the couch.

"Harry'll be out straight away," Louis said, feeling like saying it was unnecessary, like he had something to hide. But he really didn't. Tawny knew about himself and Harry. He was just trying to be diplomatic about it. Suddenly he remembered how turned on Tawny got when they had talked about himself and Harry. Well, they couldn't talk about Haz now, because he would be walking in at any second. But Louis did ponder that thought for a moment.

"I hope Harry and you can spend the night," she said. "I'd love it. I love talking to the two of you."

When Harry came back, Louis broached the subject, and Harry was fine with it. They switched channels on the T.V. until they found a movie they all liked. Tawny was still very tired from such little sleep in the last thirty-six hours, and she ended up dozing off on the loveseat at some point.

She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but she woke up later to whispering. She had no idea what time it was, and the movie they'd been watching had apparently ended and been replaced by an infomercial.

"Louis, I want you," Harry's whisper quivered.

"Harry, she's right there on the loveseat. What if she wakes up?" Tawny could tell Louis' resolve was wearing thin. They'd been kissing. In the dim light of the television and the low setting of the lamps, she knew this because both of them had messy, bed-head hair and swollen looking lips, in addition to hazy eyes. _Really_ crazy in love, they were.

She pretended to be asleep as she listened to them begin to kiss again. And it was hotter than she would ever be able to dream up on her own. The soft sounds of their lips mating, the heavy breathing, Harry moaning deep in his throat so he was barely heard, but that served somehow to make it even more enticing.

They were lying with Louis on the bottom and Harry on top, and fully clothed. They were really getting into it, Louis' hands in Harry's hair and Harry's hands sweeping up and down Louis' back in the most sensual rhythm. No wonder Louis was having trouble trying to talk him out of it. Harry was slow and sweet, but the heat was building quickly. The kissing held a frantic note, and they sucked at each other's lips and tongues. It sounded almost obscene, but Tawny was feeding on the sensuality of it.

They writhed around, almost going over the edge of the couch a couple of times, but being young and agile, Louis kept that from happening. While younger than Louis, Harry was known to be quite the klutz, and if it had been left to him, they would have landed with a very loud thud on the floor, and their shenanigans would have been in the limelight.

Little did they know though, that they were already in the limelight, for a very avid audience of one. Tawny could see Harry nuzzling Louis' neck, and while Louis tried to thwart him, he wasn't trying very hard. Tawny didn't doubt Louis could out maneuver and overtake Harry with little effort, even though Harry was a couple inches taller. Louis was a solid little thing though, and he weighed about the same as Harry.

Harry asserted himself and grabbed both Louis' hands, holding both easily with only one of his big hands. Tawny suspected they'd played this kind of game often. Harry wasn't being very forceful. He didn't have to be. Even without being right there in front of them, Tawny could see that Louis was objecting less and less. He hardly moved at all now, and while Harry's hair was covering their faces, she could still detect that Louis was a very active participant in the kissing.

Seeing two guys kiss for the first time was pivotal for Tawny. It shocked her to the core, but with these two, after all the build-up she'd seen over the years, all the teasing bits on video that hinted of so much more, it was a very welcome sight. She wondered just how far they would go with her here on the loveseat.

Louis' lips turned up in a satisfied smile as Harry sucked a spot right above his collarbone. He knew Harry had no problem being watched. They'd been completely aware all along that Niall watched their every move when they flirted, and had observed them through the cracked open bedroom door more than once. No harm in that. Niall could get off on it at the same time they got off on each other. Louis himself found it above and beyond erotic to think of someone else observing them. Not to mention the fact that Tawny had gotten excited just hearing about himself and Harry.

So even if Tawny _did_ happen to wake up, odds were she would be aroused. So either way, it looked like a win-win situation.

.


	16. Chapter 16

"Widdle Wooie," crooned Harry. And even though he was horny as hell for Harry, Louis winced. What would Tawny think of that kind of baby talk? He didn't mind it a bit when he and Harry were alone, but to have anyone hear it, well, it was a little humiliating.

"Give me some lovin.'" Harry was vocal during lovemaking, and as long as he kept it in a whisper, Louis didn't mind. It had always excited him. Harry always let him know exactly how he felt about things, and it was a huge turn-on. Harry could be so feral, so wild, and considering how sweet, perfect and innocent he looked, it was monumentally arousing for Louis.

 _I'm gonna go insane if Harry and I don't make love. I should drag him into the bedroom again, but fuck, that's so rude. If she wakes up on the couch, all alone, and we're in there, after I've made love to her, well, I'd be a real asshole to do that._

So Louis relaxed as Harry unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open and seeking Louis' nipple. They practiced a lot of nipple play with regularity, both being very sensitive in that area, so Louis knew this was going to be a very sensual show for Tawny. For some reason, he had a feeling she was awake.

As Harry licked, Louis' nipple puckered into a hard pebble, the feeling shooting straight to his cock, and Louis whimpered. Harry took his shirt the rest of the way off, then his own, and laid back down, continuing to stimulate Louis' nipples until he had him writhing like a cat in heat. Harry's lips sucked at him relentlessly, building the steam like he always did. The expectation, the promise of more . . .

Louis reached under Harry and pinched his nipple gently. Harry's back arched, and he went over on his side, almost tossing Louis onto the floor. Louis was accustomed to this though. Harry, when aroused, lost his head a little bit. That was one of the things Louis loved most about him. Harry always abandoned himself to the feelings. Louis, lying on his side on the edge of the couch to keep Harry from tumbling them both over, began to lick Harry's nipples.

Harry's breathing had become more and more labored as Louis' mouth worked over him. He sucked thoroughly and with lots of concentration, knowing just how Harry liked it. He knew better than to touch Harry down below just yet, because Harry was close already. He could tell because he and Harry had a very close, rare connection. That was another thing. . . the fact that Harry could come so easily with Louis. Made Louis feel powerful.

Tawny couldn't believe her eyes. So guys liked their nipples played with and sucked? She'd had no idea. This was an erogenous zone that she hadn't known existed in males. She was so turned on that she dared not even get her hand near her sex. She'd come, and not be able to be quiet about it. She couldn't wait to see what happened next.

What she saw next thrilled her right to the bone. Harry's fingers whispered a path on Louis's skin, working their way up and down Louis' back in such an erotic way that it looked like his fingers alone were making love to Louis. Tickling lightly, he kept Louis in a state to where Louis was barely breathing. After doing that for a few minutes, he flattened his palms and smoothed them in the same erotic path his fingers had followed.

Louis' torso reflexively crowded into Harry, their chests touching, but not below the belt. Now Tawny knew for sure that this was the way Louis had learned his teasing ways. He'd had a superior instructor. Harry kept Louis deprived just enough. Just enough to make him squirm, a plaintive beg almost coming to his lips.

Harry's hands now moved to Louis' irresistible butt. That firm, ripe mound that Harry adored. He rubbed it firmly, and Louis fought to keep from smashing his crotch into Harry's. Louis kissed Harry's neck, and Tawny knew just what he was doing, if only by Harry's reaction. He was giving him a hickey—marking him as his own. Harry loved it, encouraged it, panted, whined.

"You're mine," Louis said breathlessly. "And don't you forget it."

"Don't wanna be anyone else's," was Harry's answer.

"I'll have to come once before we do anything," warned Harry breathlessly. "I'm too close . . . "

The look on Louis' face by the light of the TV screen was priceless. His eyes were hooded, his lips wet and parted, his breath coming in gasping pants.

"Let's do it then. Come for me, Harry. Come on baby."

Louis' hand disappeared between them, and Tawny knew he was rubbing Harry's erection. Then his hand reappeared and his crotch took its place. They rubbed frantically together, hips rocking, legs entwined, holding each other as closely as they could get. It took less than a minute before Harry climaxed. And if they'd had any doubt before whether Tawny was still asleep, it was gone now.

Harry groaned loud and long. But both were past caring. They were in an erotic trance together, indelibly fused as one, heart and soul.

Louis pulled Harry's pants down, the lack of underwear making it easy, and licked all traces of Harry's come away. He was voracious, continuing to lick Harry's cock long after it was squeaky clean. Harry encouraged it, his cock still mostly hard, twitching with every touch of Louis' tongue.

"Next time I want it in my mouth, start to finish," whispered Louis as he moved back up Harry's body.

Tawny very nearly gasped out loud. But she hardly had time to contemplate what Louis had just said because Harry was sitting up with Louis now, and he was kissing and licking Louis' stomach, working his way down, but excruciatingly slowly. Inch by fraction of an inch, Louis' chest heaving, his eyes almost closed, and Tawny knew he was anticipating how good Harry was going to make him feel. Was already making him feel.

Harry was slow and methodical. He kept kissing, licking, sucking at the flesh on Louis' belly, stopping at the top of his pants, and Tawny could tell that Harry did this as a matter of course. He wanted Louis as excited as possible before he went any further. Harry was the kind of lover every woman dreams of. One who lingers, pulls the desire out, and tantalizes. Non stop.

Louis' torso fell back, collapsing against the back of the couch, throwing his head back, chest moving up and down rapidly. Harry continued his torture, making Louis think he was going to go for it, and then at the last moment, backing off, leaving Louis yearning, needing, heedless of anything except for Harry's loving touch, his lips . . .

Harry's tongue licked at Louis' inner thighs, although still covered with the thin material, blowing warm air on them, easily felt by Louis through the skinny jeans, then dipped his tongue just under the top of Louis' pants—just barely. Over and over, just the tip of his tongue. Louis made noises in his throat that didn't clear his lips. Harry's tongue endured, now sweeping from one side to the other, covering all of Louis' lower belly, just barely under the material, then he began licking Louis' belly up higher again, gently inserting his tongue into Louis' navel to add to the sexual tension.

"You missed me . . . you want me . . . doncha Boo? It's good, it's so good between us."

Louis was coming undone. Tawny would have been able to see that from a mile away if she'd had to. And Harry was getting pleasure galore out of this—his gestures indicating he would give Louis anything and everything, but at Harry's pace. It was as if Harry could actually feel what he was doing to Louis, and he thrived on it. Harry was definitely in the driver's seat, even though Tawny suspected Louis was the alpha, and more dominant.

It seemed to Tawny that Harry wanted Louis to clutch at him, hold him tight, beg for him, yet Harry was not cruel about it. He just wanted the whole experience. The romance, the desire, and most of all, the suspense. Tawny was so caught up in it. These two spectacularly attractive young men with fantastic bodies, and they wanted each other with a passion that didn't seem to have any bounds.

Finally, Harry pulled Louis' pants down, revealing Louis' greatly swollen cock, veins popping out, pre-cum on the tip, jerking and twitching as Harry ran the tip of a finger down the length of it, then licked the crown.

Louis, now completely unraveled, pulled Harry's head toward his crotch. Tawny saw the smile on Harry's face. This was what he'd wanted—Louis starving for him. And he had it now. Tawny watched, enchanted, as Harry's tongue barely touched the head of Louis' shaft and licked very lightly.

 _Teasing again._

Want it, Lou?" asked Harry, his whisper so carnal sounding, tickling the inside of Louis' leg again as an added temptation.

"Yes. No one . . . no one makes me feel like you do, Harold. I love you." Louis was almost incoherent with his desire, his lust, for his boyfriend.

The next time he pulled Harry to his cock, Harry gladly relented. As Tawny watched in fascination, Harry took Louis' cock into his mouth, starting with the head, and so very slowly descending, stopping every second or so to savor Louis' moans, and then taking more of him, until Louis had to be in his throat. Harry was greedy, and made no secret of it. He wasn't shy or passive about this. This was a side of Harry people never saw. His passion for Louis.

Lower and lower his head dropped, until his mouth was at the base of Louis' cock, and Louis was thrashing, pulling Harry's hair, whimpers and groans blending into one sound that was wild and uncontrolled.

Harry's tongue was working too, every time he deep throated Louis, his tongue would ravish the older boy's cock all the way back up to the tip, then down again, still lashing, licking, tasting.

Louis hips were rising again and again, but Harry just coaxed more out of him, wanting it all—as much as he could get of his boyfriend. That was when Tawny realized that Harry was branding Louis yet again. Making sure Louis would never want anyone else as much as he wanted Harry. And she had no doubt Harry would be successful.

Louis' climax was nearing as Harry's greedy mouth made the most lusty sucking sounds, inhibition having disappeared entirely. Harry's hands were under Louis' sac now, massaging, tugging. Tawny felt a faint pang of envy in that Harry knew how Louis liked everything. All his preferences. Well, after six years this was understandable, but the level of passion was incredible, and after being away from each other for such a short time, to be this needy for each other. Yes, she envied them.

She was also soaking wet. She pressed her legs together, but that only made it worse.

Louis arched his back, grunting in a way she hadn't heard before, whispering filthy things to Harry, who was so much into the experience that he practically became a part of Louis, moaning himself, loving every second as if it were a gift to him. Taking him as deep as he possibly could.

Animal noises came from Louis again, and Tawny knew the instant he started coming, as he ceased his thrusting for a second, then let go, and Harry began to taste and swallow as if he was hungry for this, only this, and nothing else. Louis came violently, jetting down Harry's throat, his body spasming, and Harry hummed his satisfaction, taking it all, and sucking softly long after Louis was spent.

Louis took Harry's head between his hands and pulled him up gently so he could kiss him.

"Louis . . . " Harry asked quietly a few minutes later. "Look, I'm ready again." Louis looked down.

"And should that surprise me?" Louis asked with genuine affection. "You want to fuck me, don't ya, Harry?"

"Very much."

"Okay." Louis went down on Harry then, thoroughly coating him with saliva. They apparently didn't need lube, thought Tawny. She certainly hadn't expected this to happen. Her mind had not advanced that far into their lovemaking because she'd been so riveted on what they'd already done. And it was just so much to take in.

Louis lay on his back, spreading his legs, and Harry lovingly spread his cheeks apart, his hand lowering so he could finger Louis. A long moan was pulled from Louis. Harry's finger eased in, and Louis' back arched. Harry's finger went deeper, and Louis just about went off the deep end. In a matter of seconds, Harry's cock was all the way inside Louis. Louis' legs were clasped over Harry's back, willing being a mild word for his enthusiasm. Tawny saw no sign of discomfort in Louis.

 _They must do this a lot,_ thought Tawny. Harry started out very slowly. He was so soft about it, kissing Louis, nibbling his neck and whispering words of love as well as very naughty things. Keeping up a string of sweet, sinful murmurings. Louis had Harry in such a tight grip that Harry had to wait until that grip loosened so he could continue.

Viewing them from the side because the couches faced each other, Tawny could see how Harry pulled almost all of the way out before plunging back in again, and the look of pure bliss on Louis' face alone was enough for her imagination to run wild. She didn't need her imagination though, she could see everything. Harry was huge—when he pulled it out, she saw it was longer than Louis' cock by a good two inches. She guessed they preferred this position because they could kiss and gaze into each other's eyes, making the experience incredibly romantic. She wondered if they used other positions, but this alone was more than enough to ponder and enjoy for the moment.

After a few minutes, Tawny could see that Louis' cock was completely rigid again, up against Harry's belly. Harry reached down and stroked it from time to time. Louis didn't make any effort to hide what all the sensations did to him, despite her suspicion that he knew she was awake. And she supposed he probably couldn't have hidden it even if he had wanted to.

Harry angled himself, changing his body position slightly, and Louis cried out in his passion. Tawny knew from reading that Harry had probably touched Louis' prostate. Harry began to do that more and more often, until Louis was desperate. He was like cling wrap on Harry. Harry purposely massaged his prostate a few more times with his dick, speeding up as he did so, and Louis reached the pinnacle, digging his heels into Harry's back, then squirting without even a touch from Harry's hand. The prostate stimulation had done the trick.

Harry felt the warm come spray his belly, and then up to his chest. His orgasm was right on the horizon. He gave into it after pumping Louis hard and fast, and groaned mightily as he spilled himself into his lover.

Louis reached underneath Harry to rub his balls tenderly as Harry emptied himself inside his body. They collapsed, still kissing and nuzzling. Tawny heard a few "I love you's." If Tawny had had any doubts about Harry and Louis, they were gone. They were true lovers. Not just fuck buddies or conveniences. They loved each other, and it was just as plain to see now as when they stared at each other in other circumstances. In or out of bed, it didn't change. Her intuition hadn't been wrong. But then, she was far from the only person who had seen it. Millions had. She couldn't help but be envious of their passion for each other. She watched as they lay holding each other, recovering.

A whisper skittered in the space between them.

"You awake, Tawny?" Louis said it quietly enough so that if she were really asleep, it was unlikely to wake her. Realizing she was caught, Tawny mumbled, "Yes." She knew they had to be just as embarrassed-if not more so, than she was, so she might as well admit it.

Neither Louis or Harry looked especially surprised.

"Well then, I suggest we get dressed, Haz, and have a talk with Tawny."

What could they possibly talk about that needed to be said? They had _shown_ her, without saying a word. The case was pretty open-and-shut.

Harry slipped into the bathroom to clean up. Thank goodness Louis kept the lighting the same, and didn't increase it. It was tough enough facing the two of them as it was. When Harry came out of the bathroom, he had a towel wrapped around him, and he modestly turned his back to Tawny as he put his pants back on. As if she hadn't already seen everything! She wanted to giggle, but it would be poor judgment right now.

As soon as Louis' clothes were on, he sat beside Tawny, his hair rumpled, a languid look in his eyes that screamed satisfaction. He didn't even attempt to hide the fact that he and Harry had made love without shame when he now knew for sure she had been awake.

"Are you upset?" he asked.

"Um, no . . . just, really shocked."

"I'm so sorry, Tawny," Harry murmured from the couch. "It's not right for me to be here. I really should go now." He lowered his gaze and prepared to stand up.

"No, no, Harry. Don't do that. I could have said something, or left the room. But I didn't," she admitted.

"We've talked a lot about you, Harry," Louis opened up and voiced his train of thought, leaving Tawny an opportunity to agree with him if she so pleased. "About you and me."

"Yes, we have," she conceded.

Louis knew then that it was alright to continue.

"It was exciting for us both . . . to talk about you and me together," he directed to Harry. Harry didn't know quite what to do. Being mild mannered and naturally quiet, he looked like he'd been zapped with a cattle prod. He fidgeted, looking like he wanted to bolt.

After a long pause, "Really?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, really," Louis hoped that was sufficient for Harry to grasp the gist of the situation. Louis knew he was risking his neck here, but this was the only way to find out if Harry and Tawny were of like mind. He knew Tawny desired Harry, found him attractive. Harry though, was a different story. Harry leaned to the "almost completely gay" side. But Louis knew that if he were present, things might evolve in an . . . interesting way.

Giving Tawny time to digest this little conversation, Louis retired to the loo to clean up. Tawny was beside herself. It looked, yeah, really looked like Louis was intrigued with the idea of herself and Harry. Or maybe even . . , dare she even think it? Of the three of them together. It sure seemed that way. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made the comments he had made. Or maybe he wanted her to continue to watch himself and Harry?

Either way, she was a winner. This was a once in a lifetime chance for Tawny to be wild, carefree and uninhibited. No one would ever believe her that she'd had a chance to "be with" both Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles. Or watch them together.

That was, if she ever told anyone, and that wasn't likely. It would be _her_ memory alone. She'd love it and nurture it, remember it with fondness. It would belong to her only, She'd be selfish with it, keeping it to herself to cherish.


	17. Chapter 17

Tawny and Harry sat across from each other as their minds raced. Harry was acting meek. She guessed it was natural for him, but it astonished her how someone that famous could be so modest and unaffected.

When Louis came out of the loo, he coaxed Harry over to sit beside Tawny, himself on her other side. So here she was between them. She wondered how long she could withstand this. Two of the most sought-after, hottest guys in the music industry, sitting right here in her house with her.

"A rep from NBC will be calling you tomorrow," Louis directed to Tawny. She suspected he was trying to get her to stop thinking too much. "They said they'd give you a day, then they'd want to discuss with the two of us what would be included in the show." So they'd filled Louis in on that before the date, but not her. Nice of them to inform her too, she thought sarcastically. Well, Louis was the star after all . . . "I imagine they're not happy with what little content they got."

Tawny didn't say anything, just giving him a nod. She _really_ didn't want to discuss what she and Louis had been doing before Harry came over. What she'd just seen was obliberating any other thought process. Had it only been last night that Louis had made an appearance in her life? And now she'd seen the two of them together. It was just overwhelming. It was hard to know what to say.

"Tomorrow's Monday," said Tawny. "I have vacation time coming, and I think I'm gonna need it." She had no idea what ideas this put into the boys' heads. What she meant was, she needed mental rest in order to process all that had happened, and might still happen. She assumed they'd be going home tonight, or at the latest, early tomorrow morning. She couldn't see herself going back to work tomorrow and being able to concentrate in the way she was required to at her job. Luckily, she had a good friend who was always happy to fill in for her. Her friend only worked part time on Thursdays and Fridays, so she would probably be available for Monday through Wednesday.

Tawny went ahead and made the call to Denise, praying silently that she'd be able to go in for her at least on Monday. Turned out, Denise was happy to take Monday through Wednesday. Tawny sighed, as she thanked her profusely and hung up.

"All this doesn't feel like reality to me. I need time to reflect and just . . . _believe_ it all," she explained to Louis and Harry.

"I'm glad I got to meet you, Tawny. I think it's about time for me to go—" Harry looked at Louis with questioning eyes, and Tawny knew what Louis was thinking.

"No, Harry. Don't go. Tawny has already said she wants us to stay."

"I'd love it," Tawny said cheerily, so as not to spook Harry, who looked like a scared rabbit. She felt sorry for him because he clearly didn't understand what was going on. Had Louis said anything to him in the bedroom? Was Harry completely in the dark? She was pretty sure he was, because they hadn't been in there long enough to discuss it or make plans. Really just barely long enough for Louis to fill Harry in about last night.

"I need a smoke. Wanna go outside with me, Harry?" asked Louis a moment later, confirming to Tawny that he was planning on bringing it up to Harry, whatever "it" was, but she was pretty sure what the subject matter would be. Either letting her be a voyeur again, or _, gulp,_ including her. Never would she get another chance like this, and she was bound and determined to go through with it should they suggest it. For once, she was going to take a walk on the wild side.

She watched them outside from her couch as they talked in her backyard under her patio light. Harry put his arm around Louis and stole a kiss two or three times. Louis kissed him back eagerly. That was the true mark of a lover, not just a fuck. They needed that contact. Harry positively worshipped Louis, of that Tawny had no doubt. Their body language alone was enough to convince her that they were dedicated in the biggest possible way to each other.

Harry was shy though. Shy, polite and proper. He would never take advantage, she knew that. So she wondered how Louis was going to approach the subject with him. Or even _her._ Louis had not even voiced his intentions to her yet.

 _He had his job cut out for him._

Well, it didn't take long until Tawny had her answer. Louis offered Harry champagne as soon as they came back in. Harry didn't normally drink much at all, so he was a lightweight to begin with, but he did like the idea of celebrating the show. Louis made sure to tell him-in front of Tawny, how close it had been—that he, Harry, would have been her second choice.

"Oh really? That's grand of you," said Harry sincerely, sipping from his glass. She surely didn't want him getting snockered, so she was glad he was drinking slowly. She watched in fascination as Harry got more and more relaxed, and more talkative as the minutes ticked away. He was the nicest guy, and the liquor seemed to make him even nicer, if that were even possible.

Tawny sat between them, she and Louis sipped champagne too, but more slowly even than Harry. Tawny felt a little guilty because Harry didn't know what he was in for, but she couldn't help playing along with Louis because Harry's smell was intoxicating her, his mannerisms so masculine, yet with just enough of a flamboyant flair to spark her interest. He was so considerate that she was fairly certain he'd be fabulous in bed. That is, if he didn't stay glued to Louis.

The more relaxed he became, the more affectionate he was with Louis, and that required reaching over Tawny, delighting her with unplanned touches.

"I was embarrassed . . . at first," explained Harry. "Lou told me you liked the idea of us being together," he pointed to Louis and himself.

"I know, I was there when he said it," Tawny reminded him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not used to drinking, and I guess I forgot."

How could you not love Harry? Scatterbrained, cute –as- a-button Harry? Louis had told her Harry was sometimes a little slower with jokes, and was also good at tripping over his own feet. But that just endeared him to her all the more.

Louis ended up in Harry's lap a little later, and they kissed sweetly. After a while, it no longer made Tawny squirm. She began to relax and enjoy watching when it happened. She was also feeling just good enough to have less of a filter on her mouth.

"Have you always been gay, Harry? Or do you like girls too?" She was genuinely interested in his answer.

"I'm mostly gay, but on occasion, in the past, Lou and I have shared girls."

Louis' eyes popped and he swallowed so loudly that Tawny heard it. He hadn't expected Harry to disclose that, she realized. It didn't bother her though. Instead, it turned her on.

"Not many times. Just a couple," said Louis, examining Tawny's face for signs of discomfort. Harry nodded his agreement. The way Harry was loosening up and unwinding, Tawny had doubts he had thought at all about the ramifications of what was being discussed. At least, he didn't relate it to the situation he was now in. He was just having a conversation, telling the truth, and totally chilling.

She liked him like this. After this glass, it was no more champagne for Harry. He could have water, apple juice or soft drinks, but Tawny didn't want him getting drunk. She sensed the Louis didn't either. So they discreetly removed his glass, along with the bottle, and replaced it with two glasses—one of water and one of apple juice, his favorite drink. He didn't seem to notice, and happily sipped the apple juice.

When Louis and Tawny had been in the kitchen alone, Louis had asked Tawny how she felt about the three of them together. She had admitted she'd never done anything like that before, but if she were to do it with _anyone,_ it would be himself and Harry. That was enough answer in and of itself.

Harry turned out to be just the right degree of tipsy. He wasn't slurring or having trouble navigating, but he got more and more affectionate, and therefore, more and more touchy. With both Louis _and_ Tawny. He giggled a lot, and not a shred of nervousness remained. Tawny was as pleased as punch, and could see that Louis was also overjoyed about it.

Harry kissed Louis often, Louis setting again in his lap. Then Louis did something that stunned Tawny. He leaned over—he didn't have to lean far, as she was sitting inches from them and kissed her briefly on the lips. Harry watched on, mildly interested.

"Was it good last night?" he inquired of the two of them in general.

Louis, learning how to control this situation said, "Yes, it was, Harry. But Tawny does realize you and I are in love." He certainly didn't want Harry getting jealous. And he did, in fact, speak the truth.

"Can I have a go?" asked Harry politely, looking directly at Tawny. She smiled affectionately.

"Of course," she said, trying to sound confident. Louis shifted out of the way for Harry to have a clear path, and Harry's lips brushed against hers, and then again . . . and again.

"Very nice," he remarked to Louis afterward. "But I think I prefer you, Lou." Well, that was understandable. They were, after all, boyfriends, so Tawny tried not to let it make her feel overly sensitive.

A few minutes later, Harry requested Tawny to sit on his lap. Louis graciously moved over to Tawny's original position a few inches from Harry, and watched on.

Harry was sensuality and sensitivity combined. He was so gentle—even more gentle than Louis. And soft about everything he did. He cupped her neck, stroking it, and then holding the side of her face so he could kiss her properly.

"You feel great. Just brilliant, you know," he said with a dreamy, far-off look in his mesmerizing green eyes.

"Well, I'm sat here, left out," Louis murmured, but Tawny could see he was only putting on a show.

 _Trying to get the three of them together._

She knew exactly what that little shit was doing.

"Well come on over, Louis," she invited.

Harry was happy as a lark with the three of them sitting so close that they were all scrunched together, but unfortunately she and Lou couldn't both fit in Harry's lap.

Harry licked his lips, and Louis returned the gesture. She'd seen this a lot in videos. They had their own little language going on much of the time.

Tawny reflected on things she'd read. The lads of 1D might give Harry a hard time, and even jokingly call him a dork, but those who knew him well were very aware that he was very intelligent. It was just that he had a penchant for being slightly clumsy, and that on top of his brain often working faster than his mouth gave one the initial impression he was a little dense. So not true. Tawny had taken note long ago that the wheels in Harry's head were always in motion. It showed in the tweets he'd shared. A lot of introspection was present. There were hidden meanings, along with relevant lyrics thrown in. Relevant when it came to Louis most of all.

Harry couldn't communicate with the fans openly, so his Tweets were often cryptic. Tawny had thought it might have been an overactive imagination on her part, but now she knew she'd been on the mark. Harry had been using lyrics to express his love for Louis, and his despair at not being able to show it or announce it. Harry was clever, and counted on his wittiest fans to decipher his messages. And pass it on. It was just not in Harry's nature to be dishonest. He was being honest right now. He was aroused by her—a woman can sense that. And of course he was aroused by Louis. Louis was his passion. But it looked as if he was receptive to a little play with the two of them, and neither Tawny nor Louis had any argument with that.

Still waters run deep, and Harry seldom did something without a reason, unless it was purely random. And this moment qualified as random. He kissed her deeply and thoughtfully, as if he were trying to read her. He had a reputation as a womanizer and somewhat of an airhead for the rest of the world, but as Directioners knew, that couldn't be further from the truth.

He was careful, touching her hair, neck and cheeks in a way that reminded her of Louis, but Harry was in no way identical to Louis in his actions. The whole "feel" was different. As his mouth opened more, prompting her to open hers as well, she tasted the tangy champagne on his tongue as she had with Louis earlier. She, Harry and Louis were full of passion and arousal. This was going to be one hell of a venture, and Tawny was ready for it. She longed for it, all semblance of control gone.

"No Control," she whispered into Harry's ear, and then Louis.' Beyond a slight smile from both of them, there wasn't much movement. They were evidently paralyzed with need. So, she supposed she would have to be the one to get things going in the right _direction._


	18. Chapter 19

"Very _little_ control, that's for sure," Harry said when he was finally able to speak again, because Louis' eyes were eating him up.

Whoa! Had Harry really said that? And was he talking about Louis, or Louis and her? His inhibitions had _definitely_ lowered. So much so that he began to fondle Louis through his pants. Right in front of her. There was no argument from Louis. He moaned, rocking his hips into Harry's hand. It looked as if Tawny wouldn't have to start the ball rolling after all.

"Feel him, Tawny. He feels good," Harry's voice was a purr, but low pitched, like the lion that she knew was inside, remembering what Louis had said about Harry. That he got so much into it that he didn't care who or what was in the room.

Harry clasped Tawny's hand and guided it to Louis' erection. Not letting her bashfulness ruin this beautiful thing they were creating, Tawny rubbed Louis' crotch right along with Harry.

"Take your pants off, Lou," Harry's voice was entrancing. No wonder Louis desired him so much! He was one sexy animal under that innocent façade. Oh, she knew Harry was naturally sweet and genuine, but the sexual side of him was in direct contrast, and boy was that exciting.

"Wanna suck you again," Harry whispered it to Louis, but Tawny heard because Harry wasn't quite as quiet as he thought he was. The liquor was helping along an already very lusty personality. Tawny was getting to witness the private Harry that only Louis knew about.

Louis looked at Tawny as if to ask permission. She smiled, not quite able to nod, but Louis knew her thoughts. She'd already told him how hot she thought the two of them would be together, even before she'd actually seen it.

Louis removed his clothes—all of them, including his shoes. Then Harry began his tease. Harry and Louis were standing now, Harry kissing at Louis' neck, moaning as sensually as if they were fucking. Louis' eyes were closed and his head was tilted back, savoring the feel of Harry's wet mouth kissing and sucking his neck. The tips of Harry's long, graceful fingers brushed over Louis' check, his nipples, where Harry stopped and rubbed a thumb in circles, making Louis weak in the knees. Tawny knew that, because she saw Louis' legs become a little wobbly.

Harry guided him to sit down on the couch, realizing how overcome he was. Harry knelt between Louis' knees then and rubbed his fingertips under Louis' calves, behind his knees, the inside of his thighs. Tawny noted that Louis willingly and immediately opened his thighs to Harry. There was absolute trust there.

Louis' cock rested straight up on his belly, pointing to the ceiling as Harry continued to torment him in delicious ways.

"All the times we kissed and hugged backstage before a concert," Harry's voice was smooth. "Kissing each other's nipples, grinding against each other. That's why you went out on the stage with a hard-on so many times." Harry seemed to be relishing the memory.

"Yeah, and you loved it," Louis agreed.

"I did. Seeing you in front of the crowd, all those bright lights, and with a gorgeous, huge boner, just for me." His voice had gotten husky and raw again. "Nothing made me hotter. Nothing except after the concert was over and we slipped away together."

Yes, Harry was a talker, a very sensual one, and Tawny could see that it excited Louis without pause. His attention stayed on Harry's voice, never wavering or straying. They were so tuned in, and Tawny knew then that no one would ever hold a place quite like Harry's in Louis' heart. No one.

Harry, on his knees before Louis, dipped his head and nuzzled at his boyfriend's erect member. Louis showed a lot of emotion—stroking Harry's hair, half lifting his hips to Harry's lips as if silently pleading for more, murmuring softly to the curly haired lad. Tawny heard "baby" and "love," and could only imagine how soft that fell on Harry's ears.

They didn't for some reason, act like a gay couple that Tawny had ever envisioned. There was an extra ingredient that Tawny could not define. She did know it was a deep abiding love. As for the rest, it stayed nestled in their hearts, inaccessible to others. She was an outsider, but they had chosen to include her at least this once, so she determined she would not miss any of it stemming from embarrassment or anything else.

 _Life only happens once, and if you're given an opportunity such as this, grab onto it with both hands, and legs too if necessary, and don't let go._

Harry commenced to give Louis the blow job of a lifetime. He'd probably done it hundreds of times to his lover, but in watching on, Tawny was pretty sure she'd never be able to give Louis a fraction of the pleasure Harry gave him. And not just because of skill (and there was plenty of that) but also because of the unselfish love Harry felt for Louis. It was abundant and unstoppable, and Tawny would never breathe a word of it to another. It would be her secret.

Harry certainly didn't hold back, and Tawny really doubted he ever did. She bet they did it just like this at home. A symphony of sounds—Louis' low almost-whisper voice crooning to Harry, Harry's moans, the liquid sounds of Harry's mouth. It was all too much. And she could see it now—unlike last night where her view was not always completely clear. They were sitting right here next to her, everything right before her.

With Harry's mouth brimming full of Louis, he deep throated him, and Tawny was amazed to see no gagging, just more zealous moans, and watching Harry's throat and mouth massaging Louis' complete length had waves of heat rippling like a strong current within her.

Tawny swallowed, shifting a bit, afraid she'd come with no stimulus at all except visual. Harry's deep, slow voice startled her.

"Try it?" his hand was gripping Louis' cock, tilting it toward her, offering it to her.

 _Well, doing it was one thing. But in front of Harry?_

Then she reminded herself of what she required from herself tonight. _Go with it. Accept it. Enjoy. Just enjoy._

So she accepted Louis' cock, which was near to bursting. It was as hard as it could possibly be, and it kept jerking and twitching, no doubt missing Harry's skilled mouth.

"Give it some lovin,'" said Harry.

 _Holy shit. Harry Styles offering me Louis Tomlinson's cock! Was this the hottest dream ever, or was she awake?_

Shoving shyness aside, Tawny took the head of Louis' cock into her mouth. He'd had his eyes scrunched almost closed the last time she'd looked at him, and his lips had been pinched from the stimulation he'd gotten from Harry's mouth. How could she even hope to compete?

But she did her best, licking lightly, barely skimming the flesh of his cock, waiting for a sign that he approved. She got it in record time. Louis was already close from what Harry had been doing, so she wouldn't have much of a job of it. Maybe Harry wouldn't notice her lack of skill.

Apparently, Harry wasn't concerned with her skill or lack thereof, because she could hear the rustling of clothing. Too intent on bringing Louis to a delightful orgasm, she didn't attempt to see what Harry was doing.

Louis' breathing had accelerated to the point of raspy gasps, his hand had gone to the back of her head, and by this time she'd only stroked him up and down four times with her mouth. She was going to go all the way with this—be as good, or maybe _almost_ as good for him as Harry had been earlier.

Louis was vibrating throughout his body. His legs trembled and he whined, whimpered.

"Coming, oh God, coming!" he yelped. The warm jets of his passion hit the back of her throat, and Tawny, determined to do this right, swallowed. Louis continued to gasp and sound like he was being tortured.

Tawny wondered when he was going to stop coming. She was aroused beyond description, but just how much come did he have? She continued to swallow, not tasting for fear she might gag. She had no idea what to expect, with this being her first time.

When it was finally over, Harry took over, pushing her gently aside and sucked the last bit from Louis, squeezing gently to get every last drop.

That was when Tawny saw Harry's clothes on the couch, and a totally naked Harry kneeling in front of Louis. His cock—oh God! She could hardly believe her eyes. It was glorious, and _huge._ She'd read the rumors about his size, but now she saw it for herself. It was engorged as he sucked Louis' exhausted cock and drained it of everything that was left.

When Harry stood, he blushed as Tawny's eyes would not stray from his cock, as much as she wanted to look elsewhere. It was just rude to stare like that, but it was out of her hands.

"Lovely, isn't he?" Louis asked her softly, referring to Harry.

"Oh my God," was all she could utter from her dry throat.

Louis grabbed Harry's hips and pulled him toward him, so that Harry was standing directly in front of him. Louis kept pulling until Harry dropped to his knees on the couch, one knee on either side of Louis. Louis attacked Harry's cock like he was starving and this would be his last meal before he died.

Harry gasped as Louis took him almost down to the base, massaging him with lips and throat, as Harry had done to him. Tawny had never heard the kind of primal groaning that followed. Louis rubbed Harry's butt cheeks, urging Harry to thrust as he devoured him from the front. Harry's hands were on Louis' shoulders to steady himself as he rocked his hips forward, intently watching Louis enjoying his meal like a glutton.

Desire was owning Tawny, and she was helpless against it. She wanted to touch herself, but also didn't want to waste it when one of the guys just might help her along with that. She was very nearly coming just from watching Louis perform perfect oral sex on Harry. Harry's hair, hair spray today, fell into his face and he had to push it back several times. It was one of the hottest things Tawny had ever seen. Harry, looking wild with all that luxurious hair tumbling over his shoulders and into his face, over his eyes.

Lord Almighty! If this were a porn show, it couldn't be any better. If she had the film, Tawny also knew it was the only one she would ever watch. Over and over and over.

Harry's moans got louder and his buttocks stiffened, along with his thighs. That was how Tawny knew he was getting very close. She expected him to roar like a lion, but what she got was even better. Harry lost his mind for about thirty seconds. He ground wildly into Louis' mouth, but Louis was ready for him. Harry's hips began to move so fast that they were virtually a blur. Louis hung onto his butt and held him in place.

Harry's hips went completely out of rhythm with Louis' mouth. Faster and faster he pumped, until Tawny wondered how Louis was going to survive. He _had_ to be choking by now.

Louis, however, was as into it as Harry, looking thoroughly turned on, eagerly accepting that monster cock that was pushing right down his throat.

Harry came in a flurry of activity. He leaned forward and fingered Louis' nipples, great gasps tearing from his mouth, thrusting more and more weakly until he at last flopped down beside Louis, half sitting, half lying. If there ever was a rag doll, it was Harry.

Tawny got her wish a little later, when both guys had recuperated. It happened so naturally, as Harry and Louis had always worked in tandem. Louis kissed her endlessly, Harry licking her neck, and then they changed places, with Louis kissing and sucking her neck as Harry poured all of his beautiful sexiness into kissing her. Two Prince Charmings, any girl's ultimate dream.

Tawny's clothes came off piece by piece, carefully lifted away by two guys who treated her like a treasured gift. She'd never felt so pampered and cared for. Her inhibitions melted away, and suddenly Louis' mouth was on her breasts, then Harry's, then Louis' again. She could hardly keep track except that Louis was a little more assertive, and he sucked more greedily. Harry was more tender, and she wondered if he was afraid of hurting her. It was terribly obvious he hadn't been with a woman for a long time. He knew how to handle Louis just fine, but as far as Tawny went, he was hesitant at best. He was following Louis' lead.

But when they'd worked their way down her belly to her thighs, Tawny found that Harry had tremendous talent in the oral sex category. Louis' words came back to her about her clit being like a little penis, so it was no surprise when she pondered it, that Harry would excel at that.

Not that Louis wasn't talented, but the two of them combined was one hell of a ride. Two tongues, four lips caused incredible sensations all over her sex. Everything was stimulated at once, and she loved the fact that Harry and Louis were openly enjoying it. Their fingers inside, tickling her G spot as they licked. The slow, slick massage of their tongues . . .

But of course. They were doing it together, and that was what they loved most—being together. Her orgasm was untamed, her hands on the back of their heads, encouraging them until she tipped over the edge and plunged onto the other side, completely worn out and very, very satisfied.

Later, Harry watched as Louis fucked her. Just as she was coming, Louis took her nipple into his mouth and sucked greedily, prolonging her orgasm. He ground into her more until he had yet another climax—she believed it was the third or fourth tonight.

They fell asleep together, the three of them, in her bed. Before surrendering to sleep, she watched Harry and Louis, already out for the count, as they slept, their faces with no pretenses, so innocent and childlike.


	19. Chapter 20

With morning brought the reminder that NBC would be calling and coming over today to discuss the show with Tawny. Tawny knew what that meant—Louis and Harry would be leaving early in order to avoid anyone and everyone. If word got out that not only was Louis still there, but now Harry was too, it would be mass pandemonium.

She reflected on their time together as she stared at the ceiling, Louis and Harry entwined on the other side of the bed. She was so happy for them and their love that she still had not experienced anything close to jealousy.

It was seven, and she wasn't sure what time she should wake them. She was reasonably sure the television station would call her before showing up, but sometimes people were sneaky. Especially when they wanted a good story. She wouldn't be surprised if they were followed, and paps and journalists showed up on her front lawn. She had to be ready for any eventuality.

Louis woke up hard and throbbing. Tawny knew that because the covers had worked their way down to his thighs so that the beautiful golden bronze of his perfect body was on display for her viewing pleasure. She could tell he didn't know where he was at first. Only that Harry was beside him, and he gravitated toward the curly haired god like a magnet.

He kissed Harry's forehead and cheek, and Harry roused a bit. Just enough to feel Louis' hard body up against his leg, and he reacted just as a lover does. He wrapped his arms around Louis' neck, smiling with eyes still closed with obvious glee and contentment.

"Alright, break it up you guys," Tawny said with a grin. "I'll fix you breakfast and then . . . "

Louis realized, in his half sleep that he and Harry weren't alone. He opened his eyes and she saw the realization creep into them. Same with Harry. It was engaging to see them so confused, and then to have reality dawn on them.

 _Last night._

"And then," Louis responded to her statement. "We'll have to split." Tawny nodded. 

Louis went for Harry, and Harry made no move to deflect him. Tawny was entranced by the sight. Those two! It seemed that all they were aware of was each other's presence, even after Tawny had spoken. Oh well, at least they'd had last night . . . the three of them.

Louis was down on Harry in about ten seconds flat, and Tawny could see that Harry also had a huge hard-on. If she saw Harry every day for the rest of her life, she swore she'd never get used to his size. He was serious porn star material.

Watching it happen in the early morning light, the sun peeking weakly through her blinds, Harry's hair all awry, full and messy and beautiful like it always was, their ragged breathing making her feel weak, the sight of Louis' mouth working steadily on Harry's cock made it all seem like she was in a world she'd never visited before. And probably never would again, she thought with a pang of sadness.

Louis suddenly moved up Harry's body and Harry grabbed greedily at Louis' cock. They were on their sides, Louis legs bent at the knee for a reason, Tawny soon found out. Louis, eyes bleary from sleep and desire, indicated Harry's engorged cock to Tawny. Louis wrapped one leg around Harry's neck as Harry began to suck him with vigor.

Well, this might be her very last chance, and by God she wasn't going to turn it down, so Tawny mustered up all her courage and moved to Harry's cock, rubbing it first with her hand to see if he would pull away.

When he didn't, she wrapped her lips around it. Christ! All she could fit into her mouth was the head, but Harry's head was ultra- sensitive, and Tawny had noticed that Louis had given it a lot of extra attention last night. And from Harry's response, she knew it was just fine that she couldn't deep throat him as Louis had.

Harry grunted, thrusting at her mouth as he worked long strokes up and down Louis' cock. Listening to the sensual sounds from all around, Tawny's desire for these two seemed to have no end. The explosions were timeless, and as Harry's warm balls, supported by Tawny's hand, spurted, Tawny took it all just as she had with Louis. She kept sucking him for as long as Harry continued with Louis—several minutes, working slower and more gently as he became tender, and finally slipped from her mouth.

Half an hour later, having showered together, Louis and Harry joined Tawny in the kitchen for pancakes and bacon. They looked so handsome. Harry was wearing all black again, this time having a black sweater, and Louis was wearing his "Love Will Tear Us Apart" tee shirt.

They had to hurry. It was more difficult than Tawny would have thought to bid them goodbye, but she had to. She'd keep their secret, she assured them, and if they ever decided to come out to the public, she would never indicate to anyone that she'd already known.

They both kissed her softly on the lips, pulling hoodies tightly around their faces before heading for Harry's Rover in the garage. Then they gave her the best gift she could have ever asked for. After conversing privately for a moment, Louis said softly to Tawny, "If you'd like us to come back now and then, we will." He had put his cell number into her phone a few minutes ago.

"In any case, we'll remain friends," he promised.

"I'd love that—and yes," said Tawny. "You two are welcome anytime."

And she meant it.


End file.
